AESTHETICS
by God of Insanity
Summary: Vincent is assigned the task of watching over Sephiroth after the General becomes traumatized from an unknown ordeal during the hunt for Hojo. Sequel to PROSTHETICS. YAOI Top!Vincent/Bottom!Sephiroth
1. The Bodyguard

AESTHETICS

Summary: Vincent is assigned the task of watching over Sephiroth after the General becomes traumatized from an unknown ordeal during the hunt for Hojo. Sequel to Top!Vincent/Bottom!Sephiroth

Story Warning(s): M/M, Yaoi, Pre-Game, Anal, Oral, BDSM, Uke/bottom Sephiroth, Angst, Some violence, Language, Mentions/Possibility of MPREG, and other warnings apply.

Chapter warning(s): Language, M/M Yaoi implications

Pairing(s): Vincent/Sephiroth

Disclaimer(s): I do not own Square Enix's Final Fantasy 7 or any of its characters. I also do not profit from this. This is written purely for practice and for fun.

A/N: After much deliberation and because of several requests, here is the official sequel to PROSTHETICS. I'm not sure how it's going to turn out, but hopefully it'll be decent. Don't be afraid to let me know what you think. Your feedback is always greatly appreciated. Anywho, I hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

CH01: The Bodyguard

_Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock_…

The young General of Shinra glared scathingly at the wall clock as it ticked the seconds away noisily. He blamed it for his inability to concentrate on a report that was due by noon that day. Of course it wasn't actually the clock's fault at all. The green-eyed man just wanted to pin the blame on something other than the actual problem at hand.

Sephiroth was distracted by something other than inanimate objects. He was distracted by something rather…_personal_. Not that he would ever admit to that, of course. The Silver General would impale himself on Masamune before confessing to anyone that the reason he couldn't focus on his work was because of another _man_.

A knock sounded loudly, yet politely on his closed office door. It was instantly a welcome distraction even if the knock belonged to someone unsavory.

"Enter," drawled Sephiroth as he did his best to look as busy as possible and not appear too eager for company.

The door quietly opened and in briskly strode a handsome young man dressed in a navy blue tailored suit. The General knew without looking at the man's face that it was undoubtedly a Turk.

A **Turk** visiting _him_? That was quite strange and it actually surprised him. The Turks rarely ever paid him a visit since they seldom worked with Soldiers unless it was duly requested by President Shinra, of course.

"Tseng," greeted Sephiroth was a curt nod of his head. He carefully placed his pen down and gave the Turk his undivided attention. He wasn't foolish enough to leave his guard down around a Turk, even if it was one of the only Turks he found bearable. "To what do I owe the _pleasure_ of your visit?"

The dark-eyed Turk's face did not waver at all as he kept his usual stoic, professional face in place. At work, he was known for being strict and proficient, but off duty he was rumored to be more easy going and laid back.

Tseng didn't bother to offer a smile. "Good morning, General. How are you feeling this morning?"

Sephiroth blinked. He found it odd that Tseng was asking him something personal. Brushing it off for now, he bluntly answered, "Fine."

"Good," murmured Tseng as his sharp eyes skimmed over the mostly blank report on the desk. He also noticed the dark circles under his eyes which indicated that the General was stressed and probably not sleeping very well. There was also the distinct sound of a boot tapping restlessly against the floor. If Sephiroth's desk wasn't in the way, he would probably see the man's leg shaking. "Valentine told me what happened…"

The Silver General froze as if the Turk had had the audacity to backhand him. "…**what**?"

The Turk filed away each little detail in his head until he could review them later. From what he knew and witnessed of the General so far, he had found the man to be quite consistent in behaviorisms. Until now. "Professor Hojo is still missing along with some of his assistants. There are also mass quantities of his research missing as well. It is fairly obvious that he was prepared to leave within a moment's notice. However, It is not clear what happened to him or if he and his assistants are even still alive."

"What did Valentine tell you." Stated the General in a voice that steadfastly demanded an answer. He didn't even seem to hear a word the Turk had said about Hojo. All he seemed to be focused on was Vincent.

Tseng found it interesting that the General appeared to be fretful about something. And what was more was that the moment he had mentioned Valentine's name and Sephiroth's disappearance, the General's anxiety increased tenfold.

"All Valentine told us about the incident was that Hojo had induced you both with drugs and locked you and Valentine together in a room as an experiment. He said it was for some sort of _project_. Valentine wouldn't state the specifics on what happened, but I would say it's fairly obvious that you are still traumatized from what occurred."

The Silver General narrowed his eyes and hissed, "I am not _traumatized_. I told you, I am fine."

The dark-eyed Turk wasn't in the mood to argue with an irate General. Instead of voicing his own opinions on the matter, Tseng opted for pointing out the facts. He knew the General had a very rational mind and the only way to get him to see something was to produce him with the truth. "Sephiroth, you went AWOL. Shinra had to send your Firsts on a mission to _retrieve_ you. You were missing for seventeen days and in those couple of weeks, you suffered from severe Mako withdrawals, malnutrition, _and_ dehydration. The doctors were forced to keep you in a Mako tank and check your vitals every hour. It took you about eight days to recover…physically."

Sephiroth curtly nodded. "That is correct. I have recovered, hence why I state that I am fine."

"You did not pass the psyche evaluation, General. You are presently not fit to serve in Shinra's army, let alone as Shinra's General," stated Tseng with a small shake of his head.

The silver-haired man swiftly rose up from his desk and placed each gloved hand gingerly on top of the desk. Several handfuls of his silky straight hair cascaded down over his shoulders as a result of his sudden movement. "And what exactly are you trying to say to me, Tseng? Or better yet, what is your real purpose for being here in _my_ office?"

In spite of being a well-trained Turk, Tseng felt himself shiver from the intimidating feline-like green gaze that belonged to the beautiful General. Yes, he could admit that he found Shinra's fearsome General beautiful. If he had never seen Sephiroth in action, he would have thought of S.O.L.D.I.E.R.'s poster boy as nothing more than a breathtaking model. Since he had seen Sephiroth's skills firsthand, he knew that this unapproachable man was more than just a pretty face.

"Everyone else was too…ahem, _hesitant_ to approach you, General. That is why I am here. I am not here to diagnose you or to harass you, Sephiroth. I am a mere messenger sent by President Shinra himself," calmly clarified the Turk.

"Oh? And what is our esteemed President's message?" Growled Sephiroth as he slinked with a predatory gait around his desk to stand face to face with the Turk.

Tseng did not buckle under the pressure of being in close contact with the leather clad man. The moment he did balk, he would either kill himself on the sport or he would immediately resign from the Turks. "Your well being is of top priority and if you do not improve, you will continue to sit behind your desk. Until you can function as you were prior to certain events, you will not serve in the field. In other words, you will be exempt from all missions. Is that clear enough for you?"

"Crystal clear, Turk," affirmed the seething silver-haired man. The Silver General felt anger shooting through his veins, but he wisely chose not to take it out on the closest person to him. As much as he would have liked to blame Tseng, Shinra, or anyone else, he knew that the Turk was right. He was damaged goods and if he didn't repair himself very soon, he would be detained to a life full of dull paperwork.

"Good. I have a few questions for you to answer and as soon as you do, I'll be out of your hair, General. Please, have a seat. This won't take very long at all," stated Tseng as he patiently waited for the other man to sit back at his desk.

One of Sephiroth's silver eyebrows arched at that, yet he said nothing as he turned and sat on the edge of his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the other man to continue.

"As you most likely already know, Vincent Valentine has been reinstated as a Turk in spite of his twenty year absence, or should I say, _death_. We all believed him to be dead until about a month ago when to our utter surprise, he showed up with you."

Sephiroth was surprised to hear that since he hadn't had any contact with the man in several weeks. He had assumed that Vincent was still out there hunting down Hojo.

Not the least bit deterred by the other man's silence, Tseng continued after he had given Sephiroth a couple of minutes to let the information sink in. "In their mission to locate and retrieve you, Soldier Firsts Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos came across Valentine carrying your unconscious body. He was bringing you back to Shinra. He claimed that the two of you had spent a little over two weeks trying to locate Professor Hojo's whereabouts. After about fourteen days, he felt obligated to bring you back once he became aware of the poor physical _and_ mental state that you were in."

Again the General was surprised. His memory was fuzzy when it came to what happened _after_ they had left **that** room to hunt down Hojo. Even though he didn't remember everything, he did remember bits and pieces of traveling with the red-eyed man. He also recalled several moments when they had ran into monsters and other hostile forces. The General also remembered how well Vincent had fought alongside him with those impressive guns of his.

"Do you believe there is any reason that Vincent Valentine should not be reinstated as a Turk?"

Sephiroth blinked. "How do you mean? I thought the purpose of your questioning was to determine my mental health…"

"It is, General," answered Tseng with a slight nod of his head. "In determining if you are fit to serve, we need to know what happened to you. Did Valentine harm you in any way or knowingly put you in harm's way?"

The jade-eyed man felt insulted, but he didn't dare show it. With a slight shake of his regal head, he said, "No, Valentine did not harm me or put me in harm's way. The only one who has put me through unnecessary harm, who has affected my mental state, is **Hojo**. That is _why_ I went, ahem, AWOL, as you referred to it as."

"You are absolutely certain that Valentine dealt no hand in foul play?" Asked Tseng as he carefully watched the silver-haired man. He found it increasingly curious that the General was sticking up for Valentine as if he felt obligated to protect the man. In his psyche evaluations, the doctors had noted that Sephiroth's memory of the past seventeen days with Valentine was heavily fragmented. Whatever he had gone through locked up in that room and out on the hunt for Hojo had taken a heavy toll on the General.

Sephiroth scoffed, "He brought me back, did he not?"

"That is true enough," agreed Tseng.

"I will not be pressing charges against Vincent Valentine, Tseng. He aided me in my effort to find and _capture_ the Professor. If it is true about my poor state of mind and body…well, if he had not been with me, Angeal and Genesis might not have returned with me _alive_."

Tseng nodded and sighed, "Fair enough."

"Anything else?"

"Yes, one more thing. Shinra has _requested_ that you have a Turk shadow you every day. He did not specifically state who he wanted, so I felt I would run it by you first before assigning you a Turk."

Sephiroth felt a bit insulted by the fact that the President deemed it necessary for him to have a bodyguard, or in looser terms, a _babysitter_. But still, if that was his order, who was the General to deny him? Sighing, he gestured to Tseng and said, "I can choose _any_ Turk I want? Even you?"

Tseng nodded slowly. "Even me, yes. I think the only man off limits would be Veld."

"Very well, then I choose…Vincent Valentine to shadow me."

"General, I'm not sure-"

Sephiroth quickly cut him off. "-Did you or did you not say I have the authority to choose whoever I want to _stalk_ me every day?"

"Yes, I did but-"

The stubborn General once again interjected. "-Then I choose Vincent Valentine. Unless he is dead in the grave or otherwise physically impaired to assist me, then I want him for the job."

The dark-eyed Turk didn't quite understand it yet, but it was obvious to him that the General had some sort of attachment to the newly reinstated Turk. It was clear to Tseng that Valentine was a good man and probably did nothing to harm Sephiroth. Tseng was a pretty damn good judge of character and if he had had any reservations about Valentine's character, he would have advised Veld against reinstating the gunman. The only reason he was here today asking Sephiroth all these questions was because he had been ordered to by his superiors.

"Very well. I will inform Veld of your decision."

Sephiroth glanced at the clock and groaned when he realized that it was nearly eleven in the morning. He barely had an hour to finish that damn report. He glanced at it with what he assumed was his very best menacing glare.

"General, I hope you are aware that you are exempt from that report. As long as you continue going to therapy and as long as you continue to receive your regularly scheduled Mako injections, then you have nothing to worry about. No reports or paperwork of any kind will be expected of you for the time being."

The Silver General almost sighed in relief as his tense body visibly relaxed some. "That is all? I am expected to talk to doctors, receive injections? Anything else?"

"You are required to continue your daily four hour training sessions. Even on your off days. You are expected to take exceptional care of yourself and if you feel you cannot keep yourself healthy _and_ in shape, then you need to promptly inform the doctors," explained the dark-eyed Turk as he noted how quickly the stress had evaporated in front of his eyes.

"Consider it done," sighed Sephiroth as he walked around his desk and sank down in his chair. He leaned back in his comfortable chair and closed his eyes. "Anything else, Tseng?"

"No, that will be all…unless you have any questions or concerns."

"Just one. When will your new Turk be shadowing me?"

"As soon as he receives the order, which will be within the day." Tseng wanted to laugh, but kept his mirth clamped down tight. Again with Valentine. He idly wondered if the General was obsessed with Valentine. Maybe…no, no, he would not assume anything. Tseng would wait and gather more information however long it took before he could further access the situation.

After all, Tseng was a _very _patient man.

* * *

Masamune sliced cleanly through the air as the lengthy blade sang with each graceful arc despite the fact that its wielder was very distracted.

Sephiroth was presently in the training room following Shinra's orders, which was to get his four hours of training time over with. He had already spent forty-five minutes practicing his sword forms and footwork. Now he was busy fighting imaginary opponents. He would have preferred to have a real person to spar with, but he would have to settle with the fake ones. Still, he wasn't complaining since fighting imaginary foes was better than being stuck being a desk.

The only problem now was the fact that he found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything. He tried his best to focus, but his mind kept reverting back to one Vincent Valentine. Occasionally, he found himself fuming about Hojo and how much he wanted to kill the man, but even that wasn't enough to keep his mind trained on something besides Vincent. His brain kept switching back to that enigmatic gunman that dressed in red and black.

It was true that the weeks following his initial meeting with Vincent were fragmented. He recalled bits and pieces of vague memories that were jumbled together. Itwas hard to discern exactly what had transpired in that time and even harder to figure out in what sequence of events it had occurred in. The only thing he vividly recalled was waking up in a locked room with Vincent, conversing with said man, having sexual relations with him, and then finding out that the whole thing had been orchestrated by Hojo for the _sake of science_.

Being used for such a sick experiment had also opened up the floodgates to all of the appalling things that Hojo and his assistants had done to him. It had him reliving all of those experiments that had him strapped naked to a lab table while Hojo performed some inhumane procedure on him that usually resulted in inexplicable and indescribable agony. It also had him recalling the days that he had been thrown into a room expected to fight and survive insane conditions that would have killed most other normal humans. There was even a very faint and vague memory of a woman crying out his name for some reason. Whoever she was, she had sounded distraught as if something precious had just been taken from her. Yes, he remembered all of that and more. That was one reason why he had went AWOL to find and kill that twisted sorry excuse for a human being.

Sephiroth didn't even know if Vincent and he had…well, _repeated_ any other sexual acts. All he could remember was his tireless, frantic, and irate search for Hojo. That thought made the General's skin heat up slightly from the notion of touching Vincent so intimately again or of Vincent touching him. Even though they had been both used by Hojo, the General felt that he wouldn't mind another—

"You should rest, Sephiroth. You are overworking yourself. Even someone as strong and _magnificent_ as you needs a break," intoned a very familiar deep and seductive voice.

Stunned by the revelation that there was another presence in the room, he finished his last strike less gracefully than before. Sephiroth lowered his sword as he turned around to spot a very familiar Turk leaning against a wall watching him intently. "Vincent."

"Yes, that's my name," drawled the ruby-eyed Turk with a bit of sarcasm clinging to his words.

Sephiroth took a moment to stop and scrutinize the other man. This man was indeed a Turk if he could sneak up on the General that easily. It made him wonder about his other..._skills_. "When did you sneak into this room? How long have you been here?"

Vincent offered a small smirk, which was a rare gesture for him. "About twenty minutes ago…give or take."

"You stood there watching me for _twenty_ minutes," drawled Sephiroth as he arched a silver eyebrow.

Vincent promptly nodded as if that was something completely natural. Noticing the General's blank expression, he added, "It is my job."

"You could have _said_ something."

The Turk replied matter of factly, "I did not wish to disturb you."

"Oh? You just interrupted me a minute ago," Sephiroth pointed out since he saw error in the gunman's logic.

Not the least bit intimidated by the Silver General's piercing stare, Vincent monotonously countered, "That is because you needed a break. It seems you aren't capable of taking proper care of yourself. No matter what Shinra claims, you are a man, not a machine."

"I feel fine. I do not require a _break_," refused the stubborn General as he tilted his chin up in the way he always did when he was in disagreement with someone. It was most likely due to the fact that Sephiroth's 'upbringing'never allotted him any of the common, normal rights that most humans were granted. He had been Shinra's specimen at birth and when he had proved to be a success, he had become Shinra's Weapon.

Pushing off from the wall, the dark-haired Turk strode towards the General. From out of nowhere, he seemed to have procured a bottle of water. Without speaking, he extended his arm towards the silver-haired man and simply offered the water to him.

Sephiroth looked down his nose at the bottle as if it was filled with deadly poison.

"Drink it," ordered the gunman after several minutes of tense silence.

The jade-eyed General wrinkled his nose distastefully. "No."

The red-eyed Turk said nothing for several long moments as he stared at the stubborn young General. His apathetic face didn't betray his thoughts in the least as he mulled over his next course of action.

"Well, if we are done here, I'm going to go back to my training regime," dismissed Sephiroth as he started to turn away.

A metal hand clamped onto the General's shoulder almost hard enough to bruise as it jerked the other man around to face him. "Thanks to you, I was tasked with the job of not only following you around, but of ensuring no harm comes to you. That also includes your well-being, Sephiroth. In words that even the most dimwitted Soldier can understand: if I say drink, you _drink_. If I say rest, you _rest_. These are not options for you to pick and choose. You may be Shinra's top elite Soldier, but I am not your subordinate. Your orders mean absolutely nothing to me unless they come from Shinra. That brings me to my next point: disobeying me is directly disobeying Shinra. Do you understand?"

Sephiroth blinked in disbelief while he felt an almost violent shiver rip through his body at the sound of Vincent's commanding tone. Very few people in his lifetime had ever had the sheer audacity to order _him_ around. Most of those people were either dead or on his **kill** list.

Noting the General's dumbfounded look, Vincent inwardly sighed. He had his work cut out for him. "You are a stubborn child."

"I am no child—" Sephiroth immediately opened his mouth to disagree, but was cut off by the feeling of an object being shoved into his mouth. The rim of the bottle of water was pressed into his mouth as water started gushing into his open orifice. The General nearly choked on the water being forced down his throat. He had to grip Vincent's wrist and force it back some so that he could alleviate the pressure. His green eyes slid closed of their own accord as he felt the cool water pour down his parched throat as he swallowed a bit eagerly. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was until he had felt the refreshing liquid touch his tongue.

The Turk had to quickly look away from the other man because something about this scene reminded him too acutely of the time not too long ago when he had watched Sephiroth wrap his lips around a wine cooler and drink it. It had the same effect on him now that it had on him then.

It felt awkward to have another man holding a bottle up to his mouth as if he were a baby. Opening his eyes, he removed his hand from the Turk's wrist to wrap around the water bottle. He didn't have to tug very hard to get the other man to release it from his grip. Sephiroth didn't fail to notice that Vincent's face was averted as if something were bothering him. The man looked…_distracted_.

"Did I drink enough water for your satisfaction, _boss_?" The taller man asked with his words dripping heavily with sarcasm.

As if suddenly noticing that Sephiroth was in the same room, Vincent looked at the General as if he were confounded by something. He then inquired distractedly, "What?"

"I will take that as a yes," replied the General as he strode briskly over to one of the equipment tables. He set the bottle down and as he did, he realized that most of the water was gone. He must have been really thirsty to have consumed nearly thirty-two ounces of water.

The Turk said nothing as he watched the young Soldier fall back into his usual routine as if Vincent wasn't even there. His movements were agile and precise as he battled an imaginary foe. Something about his physique and the way he moved reminded Vincent distinctly of a cat. A very powerful wildcat. He would never admit to it, but the man was perfect, or at least close to it. He moved with such power and grace that it made him appear flawlessly beautiful.

It was no mystery at all to Vincent as to why President Shinra wanted his best Soldier in peak condition at all times. It reflected back on the President and that repulsive man was all about power, presentation, and greed.

After all, Sephiroth was Shinra's prized _Weapon_.

* * *

"Sephiroth, you are finished for the day," stated the Turk as if he were the General's teacher.

The silver-haired man paused and turned his head to look incredulously at the Turk. He instantly objected in a dry flat tone of voice, "I am not even tired. I can last longer than a mere four hours."

The Turk was then reminded of how stubborn Sephiroth had been during their hunt for Hojo. At first he had written the General off as an angry, traumatized man desperately wanting vengeance; however, it wasn't until he had been assigned to Sephiroth that he realized that the man was naturally headstrong. It made his heart twist in his chest to know that Lucrecia's son was just as wonderfully stubborn as she had once been.

Sephiroth noticed that the gunman looked even more wistful than was normal for him. He also realized that the pensive look was directed towards him. But why? It mystified him and he wanted answers. "Why are you looking at me like _that_?" Asked the General hotly as he felt his body shudder slightly from the ruby eyes that felt as if they pierced right through his being. He found it increasingly difficult to be in the Turk's presence. To have him watching him was bad enough, but to have Vincent there in person, now that really killed him. From where he stood, Sephiroth could smell the other man's unique musk and it was driving him crazy. To have the object of all his desires a mere ten feet away was more than he could bear.

"You are a stubborn, stubborn man, Sephiroth," quietly commented Vincent as he completely avoided answering the younger man's question altogether.

The young General felt tempted to shoot the Turk with some witty verbal insult, but he stopped himself. Instead, he fixed Vincent with a simmering, nearly nonchalant gaze. "I think I will take your advice and stop for the day. I've worked up quite a sweat…so I think I'll just go ahead and take a nice _hot_ shower. Is that OK with you or is cleansing myself somehow contravening with my well being?"

_He's teasing you, Host. _

The Turk's jaw clenched, but his face did not show it at all. The only indication that he was affected at all was the narrowing of his red eyes. While he didn't agree with Chaos, he didn't disagree with him, either. There was something oddly familiar and provocative about the way Sephiroth was behaving now. It reminded Vincent of their time together locked up in that room. If he was reading into it right, then it meant that Sephiroth was attempting to seduce him again. But why? After all he had been through, why would the young man even consider doing it again? They had both been used by Hojo for some sick breeding experiment that had probably been recorded by a camera. Why would Sephiroth even want another illicit encounter with him?

"I will take that as a yes, as well," said Sephiroth with a slight smirk. He started to slink towards the door and when he noticed that the Turk wasn't following, he suddenly stopped. Glancing over his shoulder, he inquired coolly, "Are you coming or not?"

Vincent shook his head slowly. "I do not believe you need me to accompany you for such a thing."

"Oh, but aren't you supposed to follow me _everywhere_ I go? What if someone or something attacks me in the shower, or worse, what if I slip and fall, hitting my precious head on something? I also might need someone to help wash my back because Gaia forbid I'm not squeaky clean enough for Shinra," baited the General in a manner meant to tease the other man enough to incite a reaction from him.

"Fine, but make it quick," sighed Vincent as he mentally berated himself. He was starting to think that rejoining the Turks hadn't been such a bright idea on his part.

* * *

"You act as though you have never seen me naked before," pointed out a very wet and naked General as he stood under the hot spray of the shower in the locker room. Since it was a private locker room only meant for First class Soldiers, the General and the Turk were conveniently alone.

Vincent stood far enough away from the threat of getting water sprayed or thrown at him. His face was turned away from the General as he attempted to look at everything but Sephiroth. It was not an easy task to accomplish since every instinct, including his demons, were screaming at him to look.

"I do not mind if you look, Valentine. I won't report you."

The Turk continued his reign of silence as he stared at nothing in particular.

Sephiroth sighed and leaned back so that the water could cascade down his face, hair, and body. "This brings back memories, doesn't it?" He paused as if to wait for a response, but knowing that Vincent would most likely remain silent, he didn't count on one. The silver-haired man then added, "Me naked in a room alone with you. You completely clothed and doing everything you can to pretend I'm not here."

"Why did you pick me?" Vincent blurted out as he slowly turned to look at the mesmerizing sight of the nude young man.

Sephiroth turned off the shower and grabbed a towel in which he used to pat himself dry. "Pardon?"

"Out of all of the Turks you could have chosen, why did you choose me?"

Sephiroth looked at the Turk as if he had just asked the dumbest question imaginable. Out of habit, he wrapped the towel around his waist until it was nice and snug. He grabbed another towel and used it to rub and squeeze excess water out of his soaked hair. The half-naked man then strode over to a sink with a mirror and picked up a comb with which he used to comb out all the tedious tangles. It wasn't until he glimpsed the Turk in the mirror that he remembered he had been asked a question. "I do not particularly trust the Turks. Until you came along, Tseng was the only Turk that didn't make me cringe," explained Sephiroth as he paused to concentrate on rectifying an infuriating knot that refused to disentangle itself. Once he had defeated it, he looked at the mirror and met Vincent's smoldering crimson gaze. "I chose you because I trust you."

Vincent immediately felt a twinge of guilt at hearing those words spoken out loud. Why? Because during those couple of weeks with Sephiroth, something dreadful had happened to the General. Something that had traumatized him enough to not only deteriorate his physical body, but to block out most of the memories of it. It was something the gunman kept secret from not only Shinra, but from Sephiroth, as well.

* * *

"How come you're not wearing the Turk uniform?" Inquired Sephiroth as he lazily watched Vincent from his spot sprawled on his black leather couch in his living quarters. He found it amusing that the Turk seemed to prefer leaning against or standing near walls over sitting down on a chair or couch. It would appear that Vincent was someone who always had his guard up.

"I could ask you the same thing about the Soldier uniform," dryly remarked the Turk with a faint smile on his pale lips.

Sephiroth snorted. "I'm the General. I can wear whatever I want."

"So I see," commented Vincent as his eyes roved over the leather straps that criss crossed over much of the smooth expanse of Sephiroth's exposed chest. If the man didn't look so damn good in that erotic leather getup of his, the Turk doubted the General would have been allowed to prance around like that.

The television was on, but the sound was almost all of the way down. Bored and sleepy, the General rolled onto his back and began to lazily stretch his slightly sore arms and legs. There was a dull, sore ache in his body that told him that he had pushed himself enough.

"Perhaps you should go to bed," slowly suggested the Turk as he watched the other man stretch in an almost catlike fashion. He still had the distinct impression that Sephiroth was intentionally attempting to rile him up.

"_Mmm_…what a grand idea," purred Sephiroth as he slowly turned his head to smirk at the Turk. His lengthy hair was spread around him on the couch resembling a silver halo of sorts. He took his time as he rose up into a sitting position. In a low voice thick with lust that easily matched his ardent green eyes, he propositioned, "Why don't you join me?"


	2. The Kiss

AESTHETICS

Chapter warning(s): Language, Humor, M/M Yaoi implications

A/N: Thanks for the feedback, guys, I really appreciate it. :)

* * *

CH02: The Kiss

The crimson-eyed Turk didn't budge from his chosen spot against the wall. He fixed Sephiroth with his usual nonchalant, unreadable stare as his mind processed everything that he had just figured out. One of those things being that Sephiroth was genuinely attracted to him. At first, he hadn't been certain of it since when they had first met, they had both been heavily influenced by drugs. Being a Turk _and_ (being Vincent Valentine) had taught him never to assume anything. He was always one to carefully gather all of the facts first before he could come to a logical conclusion. Just like the General, opinions meant very little to the Turk. In the end, it was usually opinions or emotions that led to something bad. That was one reason why he sought Truth rather than personal fulfillment.

One thing Vincent still did not know for certain was whether Sephiroth was merely infatuated with him or not. The Turk wasn't a promiscuous man by nature and like everything about him, he took _everything_ rather seriously. If the young man was merely lusting after him, then the Turk would take no part in it. After all, lust and infatuation were both fleeting things. Eventually, it would come to pass, fulfilled or not.

"Retiring for the night sounds like an excellent idea," quietly started the ex-Turk as he kept his level gaze locked with Sephiroth's. Pushing off from the wall, he strode slowly over to the General and stopped right in front of him. He then offered a hand of assistance and when Sephiroth clasped his hand in his, the Turk effortlessly heaved him up to his feet. The dark-haired man immediately released the younger male's hand and smoothly inquired, "This is where I take my leave, Sephiroth. Good night and I will see you in the morning."

Now that he had risen from the couch, Sephiroth did feel the familiar blanket of exhaustion drape around him. He wanted nothing more than to fall back on the comfortable couch and take a little nap, but something stopped him. The Turk. For some reason, the idea of Vincent _leaving_ bothered him immensely like an itch he couldn't quite scratch. That led him to grab the Turk by the shoulder before he could walk away. The words sprang unbidden out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I have two guest rooms. You are welcome to stay, of course. That would…make the _commute_ for you that much easier."

"That is very kind of you to offer, but I do have a place to stay," murmured the Turk as he tried to ignore the touch on his shoulder than seemed to burn right through his clothing.

"You are supposed to follow me around and ensure that I am well at all times, am I correct?" Coolly inquired the General as he tightened his grip on the older man's shoulder.

Vincent nodded once.

"You have been assigned to me until I am mentally and emotionally stable. Is that also correct?"

The Turk nodded again. He couldn't help wondering what the kid was playing at.

"Then according to Shinra's orders, you must remain close to me at all times," started Sephiroth as he released the Turk's shoulder from his iron grip. With a ghost of a smile, he then said, "Who knows…I may do something stupid in your absence since I have been branded an _invalid_ by my superiors."

"Sephiroth, you are not an invalid," disagreed Vincent as he turned around to face the younger man. He wanted to sigh, but refrained from doing so. "Think of it as an internal injury of a different kind. If you do not treat it, it will not heal. The state of your mind directly correlates with your body. Both must be well to function and if one is unwell, the other will deteriorate as well."

The General was beginning to feel twinges of annoyance. Sighing, he gestured with his hands as he flippantly asked, "How am I supposed to 'heal' when I cannot even remember what happened to me?"

"You will. It may seem to you that you're an amnesiac, but you are not. You have been traumatized by something and because of that, you have chosen to block it from your subconscious. In time, you will remember, but only when you are ready to deal with it."

Sephiroth sighed. "How do you know?"

Vincent lowered his gaze to the ground and after several moments of silence, he mumbled, "Because I know what it is like."

Surprised by that admission, the General stared unblinkingly at the other man. He was even more curious now about the Turk then he had been before. Sephiroth wanted to know what the other had been through, but he felt it wasn't his place to pry. It was fairly obvious to him that Vincent was a private man who spoke only out of necessity. If it did not need to be said, then he would not say it.

"I will stay the night," sighed the Turk. He felt that it was a bad idea; nevertheless, he knew that Sephiroth would continue to insist him to remain in his residence.

In an authoritative voice that left no room for discussion, Sephiroth declared, "You will stay every night until I am deemed fit to serve again. If I need you, you must be close enough to assist me. Do you have any issues with that?"

_Yes._ "No, I have no issue with that. I will comply with Shinra's orders until the given time, _but_," started Vincent as he drew closer to the General. He tweaked Sephiroth on the nose as if he were a child. "Remember that I am still in charge and until I am reprieved from duty, you will do as I say, when I say. Until you can fully function again, you are in _my_ hands."

Sephiroth wrinkled his nose from the feeling of being tweaked. He hated it when people touched his nose like that. He vaguely remembered some lab assistant tweaking his nose once. He hadn't reacted in violence, but he did warn the woman not to ever do _that_ again.

And dammit, here was the Turk doing the same thing he had hated when he was a child. The man was beyond infuriating, irritating, frustrating, and…well, regardless of all that, Sephiroth suddenly felt the strong compulsion to kiss him. He had never kissed anyone before, but he had witnessed others do it and at those times, he had deemed such a thing as frivolous and unnecessary. Yet now, with Vincent standing before him, he wanted to try it more than ever.

* * *

Come early the next morning, around 6 A.M., Sephiroth was unceremoniously awakened from his dreamless slumber by Vincent. He had instantly protested and grumbled as he hid under the blankets as if the gunman couldn't see him. He mumbled something about Turks being stupid jerks as he attempted to resume sleep.

The Turk didn't fall for it, of course. Any other person would have taken pity on Sephiroth, but he was Vincent. The gunman promptly ripped the blankets away, exposing the half-naked General. He even went as far as to literally drag Sephiroth out of his bed.

"I'm starting to rethink you staying here, after all," growled Sephiroth after he had emerged from his shower, dressed, and entered the kitchen to sit at the table. He stared down at the bowl and wrinkled his nose. "I'm not eating _this_."

"Too late to change your mind now," said Vincent as he walked over and placed two glasses on the table near Sephiroth. One was a glass of orange juice and the other was a glass of milk. He also placed a small plate that consisted of several familiar-looking vitamins. "And yes, you're eating that."

"**What** is _this_?" Asked the General as he glowered at the grayish white contents of the bowl. It was obvious he wasn't exactly a morning person.

"Oatmeal. It is good for you and it is very filling," answered Vincent as he leaned against the wall and avidly watched the General. He wouldn't admit it, but in spite of the younger man's bratty, rebellious attitude, he still found him rather charming.

"Oatmeal, oatmeal, oatmeal," repeated Sephiroth as if merely saying the name could tell him everything about it. Picking up a spoon, he scooped some of the oatmeal in it and brought it up to his nose. He visibly blanched as soon as he had smelled it.

"Make faces all you want, Sephiroth, but you are still going to eat it," sighed the gunman. He was tempted to just force feed the man.

"Yes, _Mother_," growled Sephiroth as he placed the mouthful of oatmeal into his mouth. He immediately gagged at the…well, he didn't even know how to begin to describe it. It was bland and the texture made him want to spit it out, but he refrained from doing so. He immediately grabbed the orange juice to wash away the acrid taste. Ugh, the aftertaste was even worse.

"That bad, huh?" Commented Vincent as he noted Sephiroth's reaction to the oatmeal. Sighing, he pushed off from the wall and walked over to the table. Using a spoon to measure, he scooped a few spoonfuls of brown sugar into the oatmeal and then mixed it thoroughly. Once he was finished, he stepped back and said, "There, try it now. It should taste better."

Snorting, Sephiroth reluctantly swallowed another spoonful of the oatmeal. It tasted…better. The brown sugar seemed to bring out the flavor of the oatmeal without making it taste foul. Still, the texture was not something he agreed with, but it was edible. He would eat it this time, but he would be damned a thousand times before he ate this every single morning.

"That wasn't so hard," said the Turk with a slight mocking undertone to his voice.

Sephiroth glared at the dark-haired man and spat, "I don't see you eating this shit."

"I ate it when you were showering," spoke Vincent as he picked up Sephiroth's bowl and placed it in the sink. He didn't seem at all bothered by the evil looks that the other man was shooting him with.

"Your taste buds must be dead."

"Believe what you will," said Vincent as he felt the desperate urge to smile. The General was being such a baby that he found it unbearably cute. "Now take your vitamins and finish your milk."

"Sir, yes, sir," mocked Sephiroth as he popped all seven of the vitamins into his mouth and easily swallowed them with milk. As much as he despised milk, he knew he had to drink it. That's why he always chugged it down as if he were in a drinking contest. He used the last of the orange juice to rid himself of the sour taste of the white liquid.

"Do you always swallow them all at once like that?" Inquired the intrigued Vincent. Watching the General swallow the white liquid brought dirty images to his mind. Images that he fought hard to push to the back of his mind.

Sephiroth leaned back in his chair and smirked at the Turk. "Oh, yes. Always. You of all people should know how good I am at _swallowing_."

"…" The gunman coughed and looked away.

_You are a fool, host. _

Vincent ignored Chaos' words even though they seemed to echo mercilessly in his head. The demon had been quiet since last night, yet he chose _now_ to make his appearance. _But why?_ The Turk still had trouble figuring out Chaos and his whims. Even though he was fully in control of himself and his body, Vincent could still be influenced by his demons.

"So boss man, what is on the agenda today?"

"Veld called me about forty minutes ago. You are not required to be anywhere or do anything except your mandatory four hours of training. However, tomorrow you need to receive your Mako injections, rest, and then be seen by a doctor. If you do not feel well enough to train tomorrow then you will be required to rest after the doctor's appointment," answered Vincent in a very businesslike fashion.

"…you're kidding, right?"

"No, I kid you not, Sephiroth."

Sephiroth abruptly stood up and started walking away without another word. He was pissed now.

"Where are you going?"

The General stopped and slowly turned around to face the man who had followed him. "You woke me up at this godforsaken hour for _nothing_? You must be joking."

"This is the same time you wake up every day, Sephiroth. You must not break away from your daily routine," explained the unsympathetic gunman.

Standing mere inches away from the Turk, Sephiroth leaned in closer, their noses almost touching. "Oh? My daily routine does not include _you_."

Not the least bit fazed by the other man's proximity, the Turk stated, "It does now."

Staring at the vexing Turk, the General felt the strong impulse to touch him, to kiss him. Sephiroth raised his arm to cradle the back of Vincent's skull as he tilted his head and leaned closer. His lips were about to touch Vincent's when they were interrupted by the loud dinging of the doorbell. Both men instantly tore apart as if burned by fire.

The General then stalked towards his front door and ripped it open. He then snarled, "What do you want?"

Standing on his doorstep was Sephiroth's longtime friends Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos.

"_Sounds like someone is on his period_," loudly whispered Genesis to the dark-haired Soldier. He didn't seem particularly bothered by Sephiroth's rude treatment of them. They were both well aware of how bitchy their commanding officer was in the morning.

"Oh, don't mind him, Seph. May we come in?" Respectfully asked Angeal while he held an arm out to prevent Genesis from forcing his way into their friend's house.

"Hn. If you insist. Keep that one on a leash, though," replied Sephiroth as he gestured to the red-haired Soldier. He then turned away before Genesis could object and left the door open as he entered his living room. He realized with a start that the gunman was already there leaning against his usual spot. The General felt his skin heat up from the thought of what he had almost done mere minutes ago. He still wanted to do it, but knew that the moment had passed. That and his friends were present.

"I am not a dog! Where does he get off calling me a dog?" Loudly griped Genesis as he entered the living room with the dark-haired First.

Angeal sighed and patted the red-head on the back. "You kind of deserved it, friend."

"Who is that?" Asked Genesis once he had spotted Vincent. He thought he had seen that man before, but couldn't place where or why.

Sephiroth smirked. "My butler."

"I am not your butler, Sephiroth," corrected Vincent before he glanced at Sephiroth's friends. The dark-haired one, Angeal, seemed fine enough, but it was the red-haired one, Genesis, that made him feel wary. Even Chaos growled at the sight of the flamboyant, fiery man.

As if sensing Vincent's discomfort, Genesis snickered, "Then _what_ are you?"

"I am Vincent Valentine and I a Turk. As for why I am here with your friend…well, he is in need of a caretaker since he cannot seem to take proper care of himself," stated Vincent as if he were talking to a small, stupid child.

"Sounds like you're baby-sitting him," commented Angeal with a half-smile.

"A _Turk_? Why is a Turk taking care of a Soldier? That doesn't make any sense. Angeal and I can take care of Sephiroth," protested the red-haired Soldier. He wasn't exactly comfortable with the concept of a Turk playing nursemaid for his friend. After all, Turks were backstabbing liars and weren't meant to be trusted.

Angeal sighed, "Gen, I'm sure he knows what he's doing. As much as I care about Seph, we can't exactly provide him with the care he needs. We both have missions to complete. Remember? That's why we're here."

"I still don't like it, 'Geal," grumbled Genesis as he crossed his arms.

"What do you mean, '_that's why we're here_'?" Asked the General curiously as he strode over to Angeal.

"We're going on a mission in 0800 hours, Seph. We just wanted to swing by and check on you before we go. It's been rather busy and hectic lately since you've been out of commission, you know," explained a very sympathetic Angeal.

Sephiroth nodded. Sometimes he was very glad he had Angeal as a friend. The man was very wise and gentle for someone as big as him. He was very good at pacifying the fiery Genesis. Sephiroth and Genesis would no doubt murder each other without Angeal around to intervene and pacify. "I'm sorry…"

Angeal then reached over and clasped Sephiroth by the shoulder. "Don't be. It's not your fault. We can handle everything until you're swinging back into action. We just want you to get better, so get better, okay? Take your time and don't rush anything. If you need us, call and we'll be there when we can."

"Thank you, I will," promised Sephiroth.

Genesis obviously had his own way of doing things. Focusing his pale blue gaze on the Turk, he threatened, "If anything happens to him while we're gone, I'm holding you personally responsible. If you even harm one hair on Sephiroth's head, I will make you beg for the Goddess' mercy."

Instead of offering a mocking, sarcastic reply, Vincent merely nodded and replied, "Fair enough."

Satisfied, Genesis then turned to Sephiroth and regarded him carefully. "Don't neglect yourself, Seph. And don't forget to take your PMS pills, either."

"Geal, do me a favor and get this one _neutered_ already," said Sephiroth as he pointed at the passionate, red-haired man.

"Seph, believe me, I would, but he'd become fat and lazy then," laughed Angeal as he grabbed Genesis by the arm and dragged the protesting and swearing man out of the house.

Sephiroth shook his head as he turned around and regarded the Turk. The gunman was staring at him with his usual unreadable expression, of course. "I think they liked you, Vincent."

"It matters not to me whether they like me or not," dismissed the Turk as he glanced out the window. He was still somewhat distracted by what had almost occurred earlier. Had Sephiroth meant to kiss him? It had seemed that way, but he couldn't be sure of that now.

The General briskly walked over to the Turk until he was a hairsbreadth away from touching him. Leaning closer, he touched his nose to the Turk's nose. "Does it matter to you if I like you or not?"

Vincent wanted to say no. Really, he did. He had planned on saying no, but his mouth had other plans. As if controlled by someone else, he murmured, "Yes."

Sephiroth tilted his head slightly. "Do you like me?"

_No_. "Yes," whispered Vincent as his mouth once again betrayed him.

Regarding the intoxicating man before him, Sephiroth felt as if he might drown in those smoldering, sinful red depths of the Turk's eyes.

"Sephiroth."

"I like you, too," revealed the ex-General right before he closed in the distance to tentatively brush his lips against Vincent's.


	3. The Tease

AESTHETICS

Chapter warning(s): Language, Humor, Slight angst, Sexual Tension, Some M/M Yaoi

* * *

CH03: The Tease

For a moment, it seemed as if time had frozen. It felt so unreal as the Turk felt the tentative press of lips against his own. As sloppy and inexperienced as the kiss was, it still felt as if for a moment, Vincent had been drawn into a surreal dream that was not of his making.

Unfortunately, reality did what it always did: it crashed down upon the gunman like a powerful, merciless tidal wave. He immediately splayed his normal hand flat against the younger man's chest and used enough force to break them apart. Part of him regretted it as soon as he glimpsed the brief expression of hurt that momentarily stung the General's stunned visage.

Before Sephiroth could open his mouth to muster a protest, Vincent swiftly beat him to the punch. "I am not here for _that_. It is nothing personal towards you, but I aim to remain as professional as possible and ensure that you have recovered. _This_…whatever you are attempting to do-it will not help you."

Sephiroth crossed his strong arms over his chest as he huffed, "How do you know? You think I want you because I'm hurt? I do not even remember what supposedly 'hurt' me."

The Turk shook his head in disagreement. "That is exactly why this…thing has to stop. It could unhinge you, or worse, force you into another relapse. You do not remember because your subconscious does not want you to remember. It is obvious that you are protecting yourself from further harm, Sephiroth. That's how traumatized minds work."

Something that the Turk had said had specifically struck a nerve in the General as he stood there staring at the Turk without blinking. His lips set in a thin, unpleasant line as he narrowed his eyes. The General's slit-like pupils shrank until they were barely visible in his glowing eyes. Turning sharply on his booted foot, Sephiroth hastily exited the room without another word.

Once Sephiroth had made it to his room, he slowly opened the door as if it were some fragile thing. Pausing in the doorway, he nearly turned around to look, but then quickly shook the thoughts away. Entering the room, he closed the door more gently and slowly than he had opened it. If Sephiroth had been angry, he would have surely slammed the door. Something that was not rage filled his core with such raw, unshakable power that it left him feeling something he thought felt faintly familiar, yet entirely unwelcome since he could not identity it. Something about the ache, or whatever it was, (_he didn't know for sure what it could be_), felt like something he had suffered through once before.

As the General gazed unblinkingly at the bland ceiling from his spot on his bed, he mused that what he was experiencing now felt vaguely like drowning in a locked room filled to the ceiling with dark water.

* * *

The young General restlessly paced back and forth in his quiet room. He had absolutely nothing to do and couldn't think of anything to busy himself with. The thought to work on his sword form had occurred to him already, but he couldn't train in his room since it was too small. That and he was still avoiding the other man very much like a child would. He normally was a logical person that directly and promptly dealt with his problems using an analytical mind frame.

Unfortunately, the problem that hung over him like a bad omen was something he did not comprehend at all since there was nothing rational or logical about it. Because of his 'upbringing', feeling and emotions were something that he had great difficulty understanding. His prime directive wasn't to access how he felt personally; it was always focused on how he could physically control himself and carry out his orders. In a lot of ways, he felt more like a machine than a man.

Growling in frustration, he marched over to the window and wrenched open the drapes to glare resentfully at Shinra Headquarters, which was conveniently located not too far from his 'house'. In fact, his house was placed directly on Shinra grounds, which also meant that getting to work was barely a five minute walk for him. The General was used to it by now since all he had ever known was Shinra, but that didn't stop him from longing to be _elsewhere_.

Speed dialing Lazard, Sephiroth waited for the man to pick up. As soon as he heard Lazard's bored, reticent voice, he automatically demanded, "Director, where are Angeal and Genesis being sent off to."

Not the least bit fazed by Sephiroth's acute coldness, the Director curtly answered, "Wutai."

"Why did you send them to Wutai?"

"To smooth things over. There was…a little _dispute_ between some of the local natives and our Soldiers fairly recently. Nothing too serious. Just a few skirmishes that resulted in a couple of Soldiers and several locals being hospitalized," said Lazard as if he had been completely prepared to be interrogated by Shinra's Silver General. The reserved Director was well aware of just how close Sephiroth was to his two best friends. He knew that Angeal and Genesis were pretty much the closest thing the General had regarding family.

Sephiroth continued pacing back and forth like an edgy wildcat while he held the phone. The gears ground nonstop in his head as he digested this new bit of information. He wasn't alarmed by what he had just been told. It was not news to him that the proud nation of Wutai despised Shinra and its influence. It wanted nothing more than to drive Shinra and his Soldiers out of its country. In some ways, he did not blame them for wanting to continue their own independence. He was actually impressed by the fact that the unenhanced Wutai rebels had been capable of injuring enhanced Soldiers.

"Sephiroth? Are you still there?" Calmly questioned the Director.

The silver-haired man placed the phone back to his ear and said, "Yes, Director, I am still here."

"Do you have any more questions regarding the mission?"

"When will they be back?"

Lazard sighed, "I'm not entirely certain. It shouldn't take more than a couple of days, but you never know given these kinds of situations."

"Hn," murmured Sephiroth as he tried to figure out if the other man was lying to him or not. He had never actually caught the Director in a lie, but that didn't mean anything. The General trusted people even less now, especially after everything Professor Hojo had put him through. "If you would, Director, please keep me updated."

"Of course," replied Lazard.

The General was about to hang up the phone when he heard the Director's voice speak again. "Sephiroth, how are you faring? I heard that you have a Turk as a bodyguard now."

"I am fine," responded Sephiroth with an undertone of annoyance in his voice. It was very subtle and only those who knew him well could detect it. In all honestly, he was beginning to tire of being treated like a fragile thing. Everyone tiptoed around him and held his hand as if he might break. He felt fine even though everyone insisted that he wasn't fine. There was nothing wrong with his mind or his body, so why all the fuss?

Lazard didn't indicate in any way whether he believed Sephiroth or not. Instead, he merely questioned, "How about the Turk, Vincent Valentine, if I recall. Is he treating you well?"

"Director, he is a Turk. And he is _maddening_. I wonder if Verdot will notice if one of his _beloved_ Turks ends up missing indefinitely."

"Sephiroth, I don't think Veld would appreciate losing Valentine _twice_," chided Lazard with a bit of warmth in his voice that was oddly uncharacteristic of him.

Frowning, Sephiroth wondered _why_ the Director was suddenly being…well, _nice_ to him. Lazard wasn't a mean or cruel man by any means, but nor was he overly friendly. He was a reserved man that took his job a little too seriously. In fact, Sephiroth suspected that Lazard had ulterior motives concerning his position in the company. Something about the blond-haired Director gave the General the distinct impression that Lazard had an axe to grind with someone. With who, Sephiroth did not know. As long as it did not concern him or his friends, he didn't particularly care.

"How _unfortunate_," drawled Sephiroth.

"I have to go now, Sephiroth. The _President_ is calling me on the other line. If you need me, do not hesitate to call," sighed Lazard as he ended the phone call.

Sephiroth half-smiled. He had caught the slight inflection of the Director's voice when he had mentioned _Shinra_. Ah, so was that who Lazard wanted to ruin_? _If so, then good riddance. Sephiroth wouldn't miss the President since he was quite certain that Shinra had had a hand in what had been done to him and to Vincent.

* * *

Several hours later, Sephiroth awoke to the abrupt knocking on his bedroom door. Ignoring it, he rolled over, turning his back to the door and wrapped the blanket more tightly around him.

"Sephiroth? Please tell me you're not _sleeping_," groaned Vincent.

The stubborn General didn't offer a reply as he wrapped the pillow around his head to try and muffle the Turk's unbearably deep and sexy voice. Unfortunately, the pillow offered no sanctuary for him since his hearing was as enhanced as all of his other senses. Grunting, he burrowed deeper under the blankets even though he was wide awake now. Damn that sexy man and his stupid sexy voice.

"Sephiroth?" Called the Turk again as he paused to listen at the door. _Nothing_. Sighing, he began again, "Awake or not, I am coming in _now_."

Bolting up into an upright position, Sephiroth smirked deviously. This was _his_ bedroom and if the Turk wanted to invade his own private chambers, then he would launch his own attack against Valentine.

Slowly opening the door, Vincent cautiously peeked inside and noticed a suspicious bundle of something underneath the bed sheets. Stepping inside the dark room, he peered more closely at the bed since something told him that there wasn't anything quite right with the way the form looked underneath the blankets. Cautiously edging closer, he then realized with a start that this was a _diversion_. Before he could turn around, someone with an iron grip grabbed him and threw him forcibly on the bed.

Landing on his back on the bed, Vincent instantly scrambled up only to be pushed down by his assailant. He was about to start struggling when he felt a body straddle him. He grunted when he felt the press of a well-toned ass to his groin. He may only have touched it once or twice, but he knew who that ass belonged to.

"Hi Vincent," greeted a half-naked Sephiroth as he dragged his blunt nails across Vincent's clothed chest. Smirking down at the Turk, he stopped and splayed his hands across the gunman's chest to brace himself as he leaned over. Face scant inches away from the Turk's, his cheeky grin only deepened as he gazed impishly down at him. "Vincent, I _was_ sleeping."

"I am beginning to believe that you are indeed a cat," remarked the Turk as he fought to suppress the budding arousal that was starting to inundate his senses. It was increasingly hard to resist something that every part of him (_except for a small part of his mind_) wanted to surrender to. He wanted to tell him to get off of him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Nor could he bring himself to physically push Sephiroth off of him since he wasn't entirely sure what his own hands would do if given the chance.

The mischievous General stared down at the exposed part of Vincent's pale neck. Part of his long, strong neck was concealed by that tedious collar with the straps. That would not do, of course. He used his left hand to tug it down so that he could see the rest of the man's lovely neck. It was smooth and unblemished unlike the rest of the gunman's body. Sephiroth knew that various parts of the Turk's modified body bore the telltale scars of experimentation.

"You slept in a coffin for years…why? Do you think that you're a _vampire_?" Inquired the curious younger man as he imagined bite marks on the older man's neck.

Vincent said nothing; he merely blankly stared up at the other male. Whatever he was thinking was hidden well by his usual apathetic countenance.

Not particularly annoyed by Vincent's avoidance of his question, Sephiroth simply brushed it off. If he had been any other person, he may have been annoyed. But he wasn't anyone else, which was probably why he didn't take offense to it. After all, Vincent's past and thoughts belonged to no one but himself and if he didn't want to share anything, Sephiroth would never press him for it.

Eyes glued to Vincent's neck, Sephiroth slowly leaned in for the kill. He lightly pressed his lips to the Turk's neck and felt the man twitch from the touch. Next, he trailed his tongue alone the skin in a teasing dance. He could tell that Vincent, for whatever reasons, was doing his best not to react to it. Smirking now, the General then stretched his jaws wider open and lightly dragged his teeth along the Turk's jugular. He was pleased when he felt Vincent tense beneath him like prey entrapped in the jaws of a predator.

Sephiroth was sorely tempted to bite him, to break some skin, yet instead, he settled for merely sucking on the other man's neck. His neck was so white, so _unmarked_. He would mark him in another way. Chuckling darkly to himself, the young man proceeded to mark the Turk's neck with his mouth. Immensely pleased by all the dark blotches on the gunman's neck, Sephiroth proceeded to suck hard on the upper part of Vincent's neck. It was the only section of the Turk's neck that was visible to other people.

Vincent was far from amused. His deep voice was nearly a growl as he warned, "_Sephiroth_…"

"What's the matter? You don't like _love bites_? That's what Gen calls them. He always wears them with pride," snickered the General with a smirk playing on his lips.

"Sephiroth," sighed the Turk as he tried to reign in as much self control as possible. It was practically impossible to accomplish such a thing since he presently had, on top of him no less, an utterly gorgeous, sexy young man that seemed to ooze sex pheromones. And to top it off, the kid was _teasing_ him.

_Of course he is teasing you, host. If I had control of this body, I would not have him astride me teasing me. I would have him on his knees serving me._

Chaos had the habit of remaining silent for such a time that after awhile, Vincent would almost forget that he was inhabited by him and the others. The other demons were quiet the majority of the time, but he suspected that was most likely due to Chaos being the most dominant out of them all and possibly because whatever Chaos pestered him about, the others probably agreed with him. Whatever the reasons were, he was relieved the others were nowhere near as verbal as Chaos.

Staring up at the smug General, Vincent silently thanked Lucrecia for the ProtoMateria. The brat was lucky he had it or else he would have undoubtedly become the literal definition of _fucked_.

"Hm…" The jade-eyed youth wriggled around, acted surprised and slowly looked down at what he was sitting on. Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, he looked at Vincent's face and pointed to the noticeable bulge in the Turk's pants. "You might want to do something about _that_."

And with those implied words, the General back flipped off of the bed with ease before he landed on the floor like a cat. Snatching a random shirt, he shoved it on before he delicately removed Masamune from its holder. As he strode confidently out of his bedroom door, he glanced over his shoulder at Vincent and asked, "Hate me, yet?"

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Vincent was still standing hunched over with his skull pressed against the wall tiles of the shower. The cold spray of water pounded relentlessly at his naked body, but he barely felt it since he was so cold that his body felt numb. It had taken nearly an hour for him to get his body back under control even with the help of ice cold water and unpleasant thoughts. The dark-haired man had refused to deal with the 'problem' the old fashioned, quick and easy sort of way.

It bothered him that he was attracted to Sephiroth, Lucrecia's son. It was his fault the kid had been subjected to cruel experiments since conception. He had failed to stop it and he had failed to save Lucrecia and her child. To others, his guilt seemed unreasonable, but to him, it was every reason he had. His human life had ended years ago as a result of his Sin. He would never be the same and he would never see things the same way as most humans did.

Vincent was determined to atone for his Sin. He was prepared to watch over and protect Sephiroth from any danger that presented itself. There was no way he was going to allow Hojo near the General ever again and this time, if he had to, he would make sure he died for it. He would not fail again.

And whenever he did find Hojo, and oh yes, he would find him, Vincent would make that despicable man pay for every single wretched sin.

Shutting the shower off, Vincent stepped out and grabbed the closest towel. He took a few minutes to pat himself dry before he methodically dressed back in his usual attire. Once he was finished, he opened the bathroom door to leave when he finally noticed something odd. Turning towards the sink, he realized that there was no mirror. There was a medicine cabinet with a frame, a frame that should have a mirror in it. But it was _missing_.

Come to think of it, Vincent didn't remember seeing any other mirrors in the whole house. He wondered why the mirrors were missing and how Sephiroth was able to live without one. Sure, mirrors could be a thing of vanity for some people, but they were essential things that came in handy when it came to appearance.

Since Sephiroth was the esteemed General of Shinra, appearance was something very important. Why would he get rid of all the mirrors? Was he trying to mess with Vincent's head or maybe, just maybe it was actually a psychological issue that had nothing at all to do with the gunman?

Vincent didn't know the answers to those questions, but he was dead set on getting his answers.

* * *

The Turk was unsurprised to find Sephiroth training in his personal fitness room. It was about the size of a large living room and it gave enough room for the General to work out. There was also other training equipment in the room, which were mostly tools to stretch and work out certain muscles of the body.

This time Sephiroth was not caught unaware by Vincent's assassin-like approach. Without turning around, he continued the playful, effortless dance of his sword as he talked, "Why hello, Vincent. You were gone so long…I was beginning to _worry_."

"Forgive me, I would have been here sooner, but alas, my beauty ritual took much longer than usual because I couldn't find a single mirror in the entire house," drawled Vincent as he tried to remain neutral, but couldn't quite keep the slight bite of sarcasm from out of his voice.

The General immediately halted all movement at the word _mirror_; turning around slowly, he didn't even lower Masamune as he stared at the Turk with a dead panned look set on his pallid face. His voice was low and humorless as he inquired icily, "Just what…are you getting at, Valentine?"

* * *

A/N: Another cliffy. I know, I'm evil. At least I update quickly, though. Anywho, thanks for all the feedback. It surely does motivate my tired, weary bones. ;)


	4. The Truth

AESTHETICS

Chapter warning(s): Bad language, Humor, Angst, Sexual Tension, Some M/M Yaoi, BDSM

A/N: Thanks for the feedback, guys, and for reading! Also, since you're reading this fiction, and seem to like the Vincent/Sephiroth pairing, you should go check out Roaming_Firefly and Hakucho. They're both very talented writers and I enjoy their fictions. They both inspired me to not only write FF7, but to write the Vin/Seph pairing. They also have accounts on .

Roaming_Firely/Roaming Firefly- "Omake of an Unwritten Story", "Unnamed Story" (Both fictions on FF NET and on Adultfanfiction net )

Hakucho/Hakucho-E-"FLYING HIGH", RISE OF THE SILVER PHOENIX FF7 (The first is available on FF NET and Adultfanfiction net . The second is only on FF NET for now)

* * *

CH04: The Truth

The young General didn't blink even once while he stared at the older man. In a hard voice devoid of emotion, he denied, "I do not know of what you are referring to."

Vincent didn't dare back down. When he needed answers, he got them no matter what. He felt that the truth behind the mirrors was somehow significant. "Oh, I think you do."

Sephiroth scoffed, "Think what you like, but you are still wrong."

"I can stand here and interrogate you all day, Sephiroth," said Vincent with the faintest of smiles. "However, I think you should know that I am a very, very _patient_ man."

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, but found that he couldn't hold the Turk's intense gaze for very long. He eventually looked away and with lingering hesitance, he mumbled, "You will think I am crazy…"

"I do not believe that you are crazy. You are a very rational young man that has been through much in your short life," assured Vincent as his gaze softened somewhat. Perhaps demanding an answer wasn't the right way to go about this.

The green-eyed male then murmured something so low that the Turk failed to catch.

"Pardon? What did you say? I didn't quite catch that."

Sephiroth looked up from the ground and focused his feline gaze on the gunman. In a voice loud enough for Vincent to hear, he repeated, "I do not like the way I look."

It was Vincent's turn to narrow his crimson eyes since he didn't believe that for even a second. "You are lying."

"I am not lying. I have no use for lies," rebuked the silver-haired as he raised his chin up in a defiant manner.

"You are a very beautiful man, Sephiroth. I find it hard to believe that you dislike your own appearance enough to get rid of mirrors."

"Believe it, Valentine, because it is true. I am not normal. You know that, right? I am a freak, an experiment, an _abomination_. I am not like anyone else. I do not look like anyone else. Just look at me! Who has slits for pupils? Who else can endure things that should and does kill normal humans?" Bitterly snapped Sephiroth as he scowled in the way that brooding men always did when they were upset. It was obvious that Vincent had struck a nerve in the youth.

The gunman raised his gauntlet hand up in Sephiroth's line of vision and slowly flexed his clawed fingers. "I do not wear this as a fashion accessory, Sephiroth. Do I really have to remind you about what I am and what has been done to me? If anyone is abnormal or a freak, it is me. Not you. You are special, Sephiroth. While it is true that you are different, that does not make it a bad thing." And in the confined privacy of his mind, Vincent thought to himself, '_You are Lucrecia's son. Like your mother was in life, you are beautiful and intelligent. I hope you come to realize that someday.'_

Sephiroth sighed in defeat. Shaking his head, he murmured quietly, "There's something else."

The Turk nodded once in encouragement.

Exhaling deeply, the General divulged, "When I look in the mirror, any mirror, I see a frightening woman. At least, I think it is a woman. I…do not like seeing her. Sometimes she talks, but I cannot hear what she says. If I pay close attention, I can read her lips, but I do not want to. I would rather not know what she has to say."

Vincent would be lying if he said he wasn't alarmed to hear such a thing, but he wasn't entirely surprised by it. Sometimes stress caused hallucinations, or in some cases, it led to delusions. "What does this…woman look like?"

"A _monster_. I do not remember much of her face. I just know that she is not human," answered the General as he closely watched Vincent as if trying to figure out what he was thinking.

"I see," sighed Vincent as he absorbed the information. All it did was pose another question to emerge from out of his pale lips. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"In the laboratories…about two months ago, give or take. I usually catch glimpses of her after I have received my injections."

The dark-haired Turk frowned upon hearing that information. It made him wonder **what** exactly those scientists were injecting Sephiroth with. Was it merely just Mako…or perhaps it was _something_ else? That thought made the gunman shiver unpleasantly as he considered all of the possibilities. No wonder the kid was so traumatized; he was poked, prodded, dissected and treated like some poor lab rat.

"Am I insane, Vincent? Are you afraid of me now? I will understand if you wish to leave," sighed the General as he turned away. He was used to people being intimidated and scared of him. Everyone always went away in the end and soon enough, the Turk would follow suit. Even though he was used to such a thing that barely affected him anymore, for some reason the thought of Vincent leaving him made his chest clench painfully in a foreign sort of way. What was this horrible feeling? He did not know nor did he particularly like it.

The gunman slowly approached the younger man with every intention of patting him on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Before his hand could reach the General's shoulder, Sephiroth swiftly turned around and intercepted his hand. Holding the Turk's wrist in a vice-like grip, he shook his head at Vincent. "I do not need your pity or your touch. Your touch…is like _torture_."

The Turk said nothing as he watched the troubled man briskly stride out of the room. A familiar sorrow clenched excruciatingly in his chest, a sadness that he had always associated with the loss of Lucrecia. Yet somehow now…that pain had been replaced by her _son_.

* * *

A few days had passed with little to no incident at all. Both General and Turk seemed to operate strictly on auto-pilot with little interaction. They rarely spoke to one another and when something was said, it was short, to the point, and lacked emotion. The two stubborn men even refused to meet each other's eyes as if afraid it might ignite something unwanted or catastrophic.

Sephiroth was busy working on his sword work in his personal gym when the door opened without invitation. Grunting in annoyance at being interrupted, the swordsman whirled around to snap at the unwelcome, Turk intruder.

Instead of Vincent in the doorway, there stood the General's closest friends, Angeal and Genesis.

As soon as the flamboyant redhead had caught his friend's attention, he immediately strolled into the room as if he owned the place. Gesturing one hand to the General, he scoffed, "Goddess, Seph, do you _ever_ sweat?"

The dark-haired First cast Sephiroth an apologetic look as he, too, entered the room. His entrance was more humble and respectful when compared to his red-haired friend's. He sighed, "Sorry, Seph. Gen insisted on bothering you as soon as we returned, which was…oh, I'd say about roughly five minutes ago."

"Do you _ever_ knock?" Snapped Sephiroth to Genesis before he switched his attention to his taller comrade. Nodding his head in regards to his dark-haired First, he sighed, "I forgive you, Angeal. How was the mission?"

Before Angeal could answer, the feisty red-haired man sighed dramatically with a roll of his eyes. "It. Was. Boring. They didn't even need us out there in the first place. What a waste of time! As soon as 'Geal and I showed up, everyone started behaving. The only reason we didn't return earlier was because _Lazzy_ ordered us to remain in Wutai for three entire days! Just look at my hair, it looks _horrible_!"

Sephiroth blinked in disbelief. _Horrible?_ He thought Genesis' hair looked like it always did, but he knew better than to tell that to his First. The last thing he needed right now was a raging migraine from Genesis' bitching.

Ignoring his exasperated friend, Angeal approached the General with concern clearly displayed on his handsome face. Laying a hand on Sephiroth's shoulder, he asked, "How are you feeling, my friend?"

"I am fine," mumbled the silver-haired man as he carefully sheathed his sword. As much as it irritated him to no end to have everyone pussy footing around him like he was some precious invalid, he couldn't help feeling a bit overwhelmed by his friends' concern for him. Unlike Shinra and his company, he knew Angeal and Genesis actually cared for his well being.

"Has the Turk been behaving?" Inquired a smirking Genesis with an evil glint twinkling in his pale blue mischievous eyes. He was clearly over his bad hairdo as he remarked, "I thought I saw a _love bite_ on his neck, Seph. I think he's hiding a woman in your house…"

"There is no woman in my house, Genesis. Besides you, that is. You know as well as I do that Shinra monitors my house twenty-four hours a day. The only rooms without a camera happen to be my private quarters and bathroom," rebuffed the General in a cold tone of voice as he turned to glare at his gaudy friend. The mere thought of Vincent fooling around with a woman, or anyone else for that matter, made him clench his fists tightly and narrow his eyes.

Genesis didn't seem to be all the wiser as he walked around the room as if he might find something of interest. "Hm, that doesn't mean he's not sneaking out to mess around with miss thing…"

Hand falling from the General's shoulder, Angeal silently regarded his green-eyed friend. He didn't miss Sephiroth's defensive body language or the way he changed as soon as Genesis had mentioned the Turk. Clearly something was going on, but what? He didn't know, but wouldn't say anything until he found out more. If nothing serious was going on between the General and the Turk, then he would definitely keep his mouth shut. He was never one to stir up trouble when there was no reason to. In fact, he was usually the one placating his friends whenever they were angry or fighting.

Sephiroth lifted his chin up in that telltale sign that he was in disagreement with someone and knew that he was right and that they were wrong. "He is not sneaking around outside nor is he sneaking anyone inside. He is just doing his job which is more than I can say about certain others. Unlike you, he is a professional and actually takes his job seriously."

"I never thought I would see the day that _you_, of all people, would defend a _Turk_," gasped Genesis as he gawked at his irate friend.

Deciding to intervene before anything escalated beyond control, Angeal stood between his comrades and spoke in a calm, yet neutral manner meant to conciliate. "Sephiroth has a point, Gen. Just cool it, all right? If he says nothing is going on, then nothing is going on. He's stressed as it is and doesn't need unnecessary drama. We're here to make sure he's okay and to support him, remember?"

Arms crossed stubbornly over his chest, Genesis rolled his eyes once before he sighed. Gesturing his hand in a dismissive wave, he relented, "Fine, you're right as always, 'Geal. I'll drop it for now, but I'm telling you, I know a love bite when I see one."

Grateful for Angeal's interference, Sephiroth inwardly sighed as he glanced around the barren, dull-looking room. He stopped dead when he spotted a camera in the upper right corner of the room. It was focused on them and had a tiny light steadily blinking red. Tearing his gaze away as if he hadn't seen anything, he stared at the ground as he contemplated. He knew that the house was monitored and had been promised that his room and bathroom were off limits…but was it really? After all, he had been woken up in a strange room that had had a camera recording his every move. The very same room where he had met Vincent _and_…

A gloved hand waved impatiently in Sephiroth's line of vision. Genesis' hand. He looked up from the ground and regarded his red-haired friend. "Yes?"

"You blacked out for a moment there," slowly spoke the red-haired man with a hint of concern buried in his pale blue gaze. As boisterous and obnoxious as he was most of the time, there was actually a caring side of him that most rarely witnessed in him. Even though he envied Sephiroth because he so coveted the General's legendary power and fame, Genesis still found that he cared for Sephiroth as a brother would.

Sephiroth nodded slowly as he stared at Genesis' lips moving. From time to time, he would glance at Angeal when the taller man spoke, but nothing registered in his mind as his friends talked. He showed that he was paying attention by nodding every so often and offering non-committal sounds like '_Hn_,' and '_Mhm'_.

The young General was too distracted by a certain picture that seemed engraved in his mind. All he could focus on were images of Vincent touching, kissing, and having sexual relations with someone else. It made him feel hot, red anger surge through his veins like liquid lightning; yet at the same time, he felt a revolting, freezing feeling that felt akin to cold needles pricking his hot skin. He was torn between the conflicting sensations to the point that he didn't know whether to howl his rage or to wail his despair.

On the outside, his cool, calm façade was unblemished by the conflicting emotions that seemed to threaten his very sanity. Years of enduring Hojo's labs and training as the perfect Weapon had taught him how to control everything from his body language, his facial expressions, and even his tone of voice.

Despite what the Turk claimed, Sephiroth sometimes felt more machine than man. Only this time, he felt like neither.

* * *

Leaning against the wall near the open door, the Turk was caught off guard. The young General had actually _defended_ him against his own Soldier friends. He certainly hadn't expected that. With a slight, wistful smile, he closed his eyes and thought, '_You're more like your mother then you know, Sephiroth_.'

On the other hand, Vincent was very cross with that Genesis person for purposely goading Sephiroth on like that. Something about that red-haired man didn't sit well for the Turk. It bothered him immensely that the redhead was fully aware of Sephiroth's condition, yet still chose to harass him relentlessly. The gunman was sorely tempted to simply walk in and punch Genesis in the mouth; however, that was not how the Turk operated regardless of personal feelings. He knew Sephiroth was a big boy and could handle other people on his own without some older man like Vincent meddling in his affairs. It was clear to him that Lucrecia's son was already bitter and frustrated by how people were constantly treating him; which meant that if Vincent chose to jump in and "rescue" him, the silver-haired youth would become irrationally irate.

The crimson clad Turk wasn't particularly a nosy person by nature, but he was a trained Turk. It was his job to do whatever he was ordered to do; be it subterfuge, sabotage, reconnaissance, or assassination. Since his job now was to not only be Sephiroth's bodyguard, but to be his _caretaker_, as well, he would do whatever was deemed necessary.

A silent sigh passed his dry, pale lips as he blinked his wine-colored orbs open. The past few days had been…well, uncomfortable and miserable were the only words he could think of to describe it. He found himself missing the interaction with Sephiroth and even the younger man's infuriating bratty moments. There was also another part of himself that desperately missed _and_ longed for the touching and intimacy that he had had, however briefly, with the other man. It then made him recall what Sephiroth had said to him a few days prior: '_Your touch…is like torture_.'

If Vincent touching him was torture for Sephiroth, then Sephiroth _not_ touching Vincent was indeed torture for the Turk. How ironic, in a sense that was.

The Turk didn't even know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, the young General had grown on him. He felt as if he had been stumbling without purpose or cause in the long dark for years on end only to come upon a startlingly ray of light. A beam of light that appeared in the form of Lucrecia's beautiful son. If he was not damned before, Vincent was certain that he was damned now.

* * *

Lights out in the dark chambers, the young General stood stock still against the wall of his room with his back flat against it. His head was turned just right so that he could stare out of the window without being seen. For several long minutes that seemed like hours, he waited quietly and patiently for the timed lamps to go out.

To conserve energy, (_or in Shinra's case, money_) the lamps went out for ten minutes at a time every hour like clockwork. That didn't necessarily mean that there was no security, though. There was always an enhanced Soldier or two outside patrolling the grounds for any signs of commotion or intruders.

As soon as the lights blinked off, the young General quietly opened his window and slipped out undetected. Even though he was an elite Soldier, stealth was something that had always come naturally to him. At one point in time, the Turks had expressed a keen interest in him, yet had been immediately denied since he had been specifically bred and trained for the S.O.L.D.I.E.R. program.

Steps nimble and light, he edged carefully on the ledge of his window. He waited until the patrolling Soldier passed before he leapt down to the ground with ease. Glancing around, he made sure the coast was clear before he continued his trek. Keeping in mind that he only had roughly eight minutes left, he maneuvered himself quickly, yet carefully on Shinra grounds.

Sephiroth felt an adrenaline rush race through him as he snuck into a garage that housed several motorcycles and other various military vehicles. As predicted, the lights were off, as well. He would have to be quick and make as little noise as possible.

Spotting a standard issue Shinra slate motorcycle, he immediately slid into the seat and gripped the throttle in a firm grip. It really wasn't his type of bike, but it was nearly silent and the engine hummed quietly. It was convenient and would have to do for what he had planned.

In a matter of seconds, he had driven off the lot and sped into the road without incident. His lengthy metallic hair and leather black coat whipped behind him as the wind rushed around his body in a possessive caress. Gripping the throttle harder, he forced the bike to speed faster, but was ever mindful not to waste too much fuel. He had no such desire to have to walk the dreadfully long distance to his chosen destination.

_Freedom... _Was this what it felt like? Yes, yes, he remembered this freedom. He had felt this heightening, liberating feeling once before when he had gone AWOL with Vincent in tow to hunt down that madman Hojo.

Closing his intense eyes for a scarce moment, he relished in the rough, brittle cold feel of the icy wind stinging his face until it felt numb. His body felt powerful, yet weightless as he urged the bike to drive a little faster. As he sped down the darkened road alone, he felt as if his body had merged with the machine. He was no longer a man, but an extension of the machine that indiscriminately defied the asphalt road with little consequence.

At the notion of the word consequence, Sephiroth quickly blinked his eyes open. With a satisfied smile spread on his suddenly more youthful visage, he then focused his enhanced eyes on the dark road. Oh, he could definitely get used to _this_.

* * *

Vincent was _livid_. No, livid wasn't a strong enough word for it. Livid didn't quite explain how he hastily paced back and forth, his boots almost literally burning holes through the black carpet of Sephiroth's room as he silently fumed. His shaking hands sporadically clenched and unclenched as he tried his best to work through his white hot anger to clear his head. The only time he remembered feeling anywhere near this angry was pretty much any incident that had to do with Hojo. It was true that Hojo enraged him enough to hunt the man down to kill him, but Sephiroth…oh, that boy _pissed_ him off in a different sort of way. The sort of way most people felt when someone they cared about ran off and did something stupid.

The Turk had woken up in the middle of the night for reasons he couldn't quite fathom. Everything was deathly quiet, there were no alarms, and even the young General's room was silent. Something, quite possibly his instincts, had relayed to him that something was wrong. Wide awake and alert, he had nimbly swept through the house in search of the problem. Finding nothing, he had started to pass by Sephiroth's private quarters when something had occurred to him. Normally, he never trespassed into the youth's room, but some feeling inside of his being insisted upon it. Giving into the hunch, he had stealthily crept into the room only to find an empty bed inside of an empty room. No Sephiroth.

Not finding the General anywhere in the house, Vincent had then resorted to calling the silver-haired man's personal phone. It had rung a few times before going to voicemail, which told him that Sephiroth had his phone and had rejected the call.

It didn't take long for Vincent to clear his head and to cool his smoldering emotions. Strangling Sephiroth would have to wait until later _after_ he safely recovered the impudent boy. Once all of the anger, frustration, and anxiety had passed with the exhale of a deep breath, the Turk then abruptly stopped pacing.

What would he do now? Should he search the grounds for Sephiroth? Or maybe—ah! Yes, the General's phone had a tracking chip in it, which made him shudder to think if Hojo had ever implanted a tracking chip in him and/or in Sephiroth. Quickly casting the latter thought aside, he settled on the idea about the chip in the phone. He could always trace it, but then he would have to run it by certain people and that was something he didn't want to do. Alerting anyone of Sephiroth's disappearance was one of the worst ideas that he could possibly come up with. It was probably what he should do, but he didn't like the thought of what those people would do to Sephiroth if—

The window opened quietly as something clad in black leather with long metallic hair and glowing green eyes slipped nimbly into the dark room. The tall figure stood up to his full height and was about to turn and close the window when he realized he was not alone. Catching sight of the figure clad in red and black nearly froze his blood as the smile instantly died on his face. He had not sensed the silent Turk who presently stood as still and grounded as a statue. The General didn't know what bothered him more; the fact that he hadn't immediately sensed the Turk or the fact that said Turk was glaring murderously at him in barely restrained fury.

In a composed tone of voice, Sephiroth quietly inquired, "Vincent…what are you doing in _my_ room?"

The Turk said nothing as his burning glare seemed to morph into frigid ice. If looks could indeed kill, the Silver General would have been dead a thousand times over, and painfully so.

Not in the mood to push a response from the silent man, Sephiroth moved to his closet to place a black leather bag on a shelf inside. The bag was fairly new and hadn't been acquired until the very night of his unauthorized joyride. He was about to close the closet door when the Turk's monotonous voice demanded icily, "_Where have you been_."

Sephiroth turned and stared pointedly at him. He wanted to laugh, but the humor of it died before it could rumble up from his chest. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but something about Vincent's aura was beginning to rub him the wrong way. "Out."

"_Out?_ Out where?" Growled Vincent as he fearlessly advanced on the younger man. His ruby eyes glanced at the bag in the closet before he snapped them right back onto Sephiroth. Jerking his chin in the direction of the bag, he bluntly questioned, "What is in the bag? Where did you go? What did you do? Something could have happened, you idiot, and I would not have known where to look! What possessed you to sneak out at night and go wherever you went without alerting me or anyone else? You could have been killed—or _worse_."

The General blinked dumbly for a few moments as he stared at the angry Turk. Vincent…was actually _pissed!_ The only time he had seen Vincent this angry was when they had both found out that Hojo had duped them both. Regardless of that, the Turk had always been patient and calm around him no matter what he did or said to Vincent. Until now.

"Well? Are you going to answer me?"

Sephiroth's green eyes focused back on Vincent as he regarded the angry man. He could have offered him all sorts of excuses for what he had done and for where he had gone, but he didn't. The stoic General looked the Turk square in the eye and simply said, "Freedom."

"_Freedom_…?" Repeated Vincent as he tilted his head slightly in disbelief.

Sephiroth nodded curtly. "Yes, freedom. It's quite simple, Vincent. I snuck out of my window in the dead of night and I stole a motorcycle and drove it several miles for the hell of it. I drove into town, parked the motorcycle and walked around the town as if I were one of the locals. I even went into their shops and perused what the shops had to offer. I then walked into a bar, ordered a drink, and even talked to random _normal_ people. Why? Because I wanted to do it. And I did it."

The dark-haired man felt like a fool as he stood there staring at the other man. Guilt welled up inside him as he finally realized just how isolated, entrapped, and lonely Sephiroth was and had always been. Just when he had finally found some sort of solace in someone, in Vincent, the Turk had turned him away. The General had responded in the only way he knew how: by withdrawing back into himself. That was probably why he had mostly kept to himself and avoided the Turk as much as possible. Did that mean that the youth was suffering? All signs pointed to yes, which only increased the staggering guilt that was beginning to suffocate Vincent.

Another thing bothered the Turk, though. Sephiroth's hermit-like behavior hadn't changed until his friends had returned from their mission. Had their visit affected him in some way? Surely being constantly treated like an invalid _plus_ having everyone else's lives thrust in his face all of the time wasn't an enjoyable feeling at all. Perhaps that was why he had felt the need to sneak out to do whatever he wished. For all his power, grace, and intelligence, even someone as seemingly perfect as Sephiroth felt the desire to _live_.

"I think we should reach some sort of truce, or, should I say, a compromise, if that works better for you. I will not tell Shinra or anyone else of what you did, but I expect something from you in return," began Vincent as he held Sephiroth's eyes with a level gaze.

Sephiroth stiffened somewhat as he asked very slowly, "And that would be…?"

"Here is my compromise: Whenever I intend to leave to go anywhere at all, I will inform you of when I will be departing, where I am going, and why I am going. I expect you to inform me whenever you plan to leave and to include where you are going, as well. I do not expect you to tell me why unless I ask or if it is something of significance. Does that sound fair?"

The General nodded slowly and if he had been any other person, he would have sighed in relief. He had expected something different from Vincent since no one ever compromised with him. Everyone always barked orders at him and treated him like some soulless robot.

"I apologize for speaking to you in the manner that I did. I was…" Started Vincent, but he couldn't bring himself to finish his statement. He could feel emotion starting to well up inside of him, which was not something he wanted happening. The Turk knew from experience that emotion often led to people acting without clear judgment.

"You were worried," finished Sephiroth for the Turk. He sounded just as surprised as Vincent did upon that realization.

Vincent nodded even though he normally wouldn't have acknowledged such a thing. He felt that he owed Sephiroth something especially after what he had done and said. Guilt could be such a great motivator at times.

"Why do you care?" Asked the General after a lengthy pause of silence.

This time the Turk didn't directly answer the other man as he stared at him in silence. How could he answer such a thing when he was still fighting himself over the fact that he did care. He did care. Vincent cared much more than he wanted to admit to. It was wrong to feel the way he did and it hard to fight the unwelcome fact that he almost desperately pined for the younger man.

'_You humans are such trivial creatures. You make things needlessly complicated for no reason at all. Host, I fail to see the reasoning behind your thoughts and actions. Your reluctance to act on your desires, your very instincts, baffles me. The only thing I agree with you on is that you are, indeed, a fool_.'

Before the inky black-haired Turk could quickly dismiss Chaos, a part of him lingered on the demon's frustrated words. It annoyed him to no end that he found a part of himself actually agreeing with the beast as the other demons remained silent. In spite of their silence, he could still feel them influencing him with their silent judgment. It irked him to the point that he desperately fought the urge to scream. He had to deny them, to deny himself, but most of all, he had to deny everything. _Deny, deny, deny!_ That seemed to be part of his mantra as of late.

Sephiroth stepped closer to the Turk until they were nose to nose with their bodies nearly touching. He could feel the other man's heat simmering against his body and was so very tempted to touch him, but he refrained from doing so. Tilting his head slightly to the side, he kept his slightly parted lips barely an inch away from the Turk's. Staring into Vincent's dazed eyes, he then repeated, "Why do you care?"

The sudden and unexpected proximity of the General startled the Turk. He swore he could hear his own heart hammering wildly in his chest while his skin grew hot and tight. Having Sephiroth this close to him felt akin to what a starved man might feel when finally faced with a delectable feast. The rapidly mounting urge to kiss him, to touch him, and to possess him entirely was more than his deprived being could bear. Vincent knew that if he didn't force himself to leave now, he would undoubtedly _use_ this alluring young man to slake his sinful lust. With that thought in mind, the stubborn Turk used every ounce of remaining will power to step back away from Sephiroth. He then hastily exited the room without another word or glance.

The green-eyed man felt some amusement as he watched the Turk leave so abruptly. He couldn't deny the inkling of pleasure he felt from the feeling of getting underneath Vincent's skin. It was as if they were both playing an unpredictable game that seemingly had no rules. A game that he felt he was starting to win. The stubborn Turk was a challenge, a difficult challenge that invigorated the General in a similar way he felt whenever he fought in battle. There were moments when he felt like giving up and just leaving everything as it were, but a stubborn part of him refused to stop.

Sephiroth couldn't stop now. Not now that he knew without a doubt that the Turk desired him. Vincent's mouth claimed one thing while his body language contradicted everything he said. The General had learned early on in life that a person's body language was a more accurate indicator of the truth than anything spoken. Sephiroth had also noticed the racing pulse, the rise in temperature, the dilated ruby eyes, and the unmistakable smell of sexual arousal. Vincent could deny to himself and to Sephiroth everything that he felt, but he still could not control the truth. As smooth and controlled as the red-eyed man was, there were still some things even he couldn't control.

With those thoughts buzzing around inside of his head, Sephiroth strode over to his closet and opened the bag. He fished a two and a half inch leather-bound book out from the bag and then seated himself comfortably on his bed before he opened the book. He then began to read with vigor, his unblinking green eyes devouring each page without mercy.

* * *

Being the light sleeper that he was, the Turk was startled out of his sleep by the wet, yet warm feeling of something tickling his body. Trained to become fully awake in an instant, he was shocked to find himself on his back with a very naked Sephiroth trailing his hot mouth down his mostly revealed bare chest. Red eyes wide and alert, he immediately tried to move only to realize that his arms were restricted by something. Looking up, he noticed the thin, yet strong black cord that was attached to the metal headboard of the bed and tied around each of his wrists, effectively stretching each arm out. Whatever the rope was made out of, it was very strong, soft, and didn't allow much movement at all.

Cautiously testing the strength of the cord, Vincent wasn't the least bit surprised to find that it wouldn't give. Brute strength wouldn't release him from the strength of these ropes _unless_…no. No, he would not, and could not, summon the aid of his demons.

A long tongue dipped into his navel, which jerked the Turk out of his desperate thoughts. Looking down, he watched as the young General swirled his tongue in his navel as his hands actively worked at removing the rest of the Turk's tiresome clothes. The feeling wasn't unpleasant to him at all, but it did feel quite odd. He had never had anyone stick anything in his belly button before.

"Sephiroth…what are you doing?" Rasped Vincent as a strong hand ghosted over the forming bulge in his pants. The fleeting, light touches to his body caused him to grip the ropes in his hands and pull hard. His head lolled back, his black hair a tangled mess on his pillow. Squeezing his eyes shut, the ruby-eyed gunman could barely hold back the low moan that was caught in his throat.

The younger man said nothing in reply as he traced the tip of his tongue down past the Turk's navel until he was mere inches from Vincent's unzipped pants. Caressing the gunman's pale left hip, he moved his mouth to the right and lovingly kissed the right hip. Sephiroth's dilated eyes finally lifted from their work to look up at the bound Turk. The sight of Vincent tied up, half-naked, and aroused was a sight to behold. His work was cut out for him now and it excited him even more to know that he had barely just begun. Smirking like a cat that had just caught a mouse, the angelic-like youth purred, "You want to know what I am doing, Vincent? Well…that should be very obvious to someone like you. If not, then figure it out, Turk."


	5. The Taking

AESTHETICS

Chapter warning(s): Bad language, Humor, Angst, Mentions of sex themes/implications, Censored sex version

* * *

CH05: The Taking

Vincent was dumb folded. And Distracted. Very, very distracted. He could barely think as skilled hands yanked his pants down and away from his body. If he had had any blood left in his brain, he might have wondered just how the sneaky General had managed to tie him up without waking him up. He might have also wondered if this was really happening or if this was nothing but an erotic dream brought on by his lonely, depraved mind.

"Whatever is the matter, Valentine?" Smoothly inquired Sephiroth as he slid off from the bed as if this were something they normally partook in every day.

He was out of the Turk's field of vision for no longer than thirty seconds before he returned. Crawling on the bed towards Vincent like a stalking wild cat; the sensual movement of the silver-haired man portrayed him in a more feline way than he normally appeared. As if distinctly aware of this, he then purred mockingly, "Does the cat have your tongue, hm? Do not worry, darling; we will not require your tongue for what will occur here tonight."

_Darling…? _ Vincent was about to open his mouth to speak when he noticed with a start that the young General had already straddled his thighs. When had that happened? It would seem that the Turk's responses were slow and distorted. Was there a reason for it?

Chaos was silent, as usual. Yet somewhere in the confines of the Turk's being, he thought he heard…_laughter?_

Already painfully aroused and frustrated, the dark-haired man was at war with not only himself, but with the very being before him. While he grudgingly was enjoying being tied up and molested, there was a smaller part of his barely functioning brain that feared what was about to transpire between them. The Turk was fully aware that the angelic-like man astride him was unpredictable and unstable as it were and there was no telling what would happen.

As if reading the Turk's hazy mind, Sephiroth opened one of his clenched hands to reveal a black circular object. It was a band of some sort…but what? Vincent noted that it was too big to be a ring for a finger and it was too small to be a necklace or a bracelet.

The green-eyed man half-smirked at the curious look on the older man's face. It was fairly obvious that he was enjoying the Turk's torment. His own aroused body shook slightly in anticipation for what he had planned.

"Seph-" Vincent started to say, but abruptly stopped when he felt the younger man gingerly slip the ring over the head and down his length until it tightly gripped the base of his swollen cock. His crimson orbs widened in sudden realization as he finally figured out what that mysterious little object was.

A _cock ring_.

It was as if someone had just smacked Vincent hard across the face. Eyes wide and mouth parted, he gawked at the cock ring for several long moments before jerking his head up to look at the younger man. Suddenly Sephiroth no longer resembled a helpless child in the Turk's eyes. He was a man now; an adult man who wasn't afraid to take what he wanted. Traumatized or not, Sephiroth was not a simpering woman in need of constant rescue.

Vincent hated to think it, but Lucrecia's son had more of a backbone than she had had in life. The woman he had loved once had locked herself away in her prison whereas Sephiroth refused to shut down to escape his own torment. He was the kind of person who did not cower even if he was afraid or confused.

The Turk also felt the ugly guilt rear its face at him at these thoughts. He was ashamed, ashamed that like Lucrecia, he himself had given up on Sephiroth and had locked himself away in his own personal prison. Like the Sephiroth's mother, Vincent had slept away the years while he allowed Sephiroth to suffer at the inhumane hands of Hojo and Shinra all of these years.

These were the kind of thoughts that plagued him relentlessly, day and night. They were part of the reason why he had vowed to redeem himself to not only amend his shame, but to make up for his inaction. He only hoped that it wasn't too late to save Sephiroth.

"You think too much," sighed the silver-haired General as he trailed the tips of his naked fingers up the Turk's smooth, yet incredibly tense thighs. Sliding his body over until he was sitting on Vincent's groin, he then leaned over until his face was so close that his nose brushed lightly against the Turk's. In a low husk of a murmur, he commanded, "Stop thinking. Just…feel. I know you want it, Valentine, so stop fighting what you desire, what you crave."

* * *

Graphic Sex Scene Edited to Suit FF net's TOS

If you are of age, and can access adultfanfiction dot net, then please proceed to the link provided in my profile. A link is also provided in my deviantart journal. Until I select an alternate fiction website, I will be using ff net and adultfanfiction net for now.

* * *

The dark-haired Turk, lost in his own perplexed thoughts, stared unblinkingly up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours to him. He was lying on his back with his arms lying passively at his sides. A black, sleek sheet, which was a sharp contrast to his pale body, was wrapped loosely around his waist while his bare upper body lay exposed to the cool air.

The pitch black room was as dark as it was silent save for the steady, yet quiet breathing of the slumbering man lying beside the Turk.

Closing his dry eyes momentarily, the gunman tried to think of anything else other than Shinra's General, but he couldn't will himself to think of anything else. Every time he tried to focus his mind on something other than Sephiroth, something about the thought in his head would somehow remind him of the frustratingly irresistible man.

Slight movement caused Vincent to turn his head to the right in time to see the sleeping man roll onto his stomach. The Turk's cold gaze softened somewhat as he took in the angelic, yet very human image of Sephiroth lying on his stomach with his left arm hanging limply off the bed. His face was facing Vincent and half of it was hidden by the pillow that smothered it. The younger man's lengthy silver hair was also strewn all over the place as a testament that he shifted and moved a lot in his sleep. It did nothing but serve to enhance the lovely picture of his youth and innocence. It seemed as if all of his cares and troubles had melted away into nothingness.

Suddenly bothered by the hair in the General's relaxed face, Vincent slowly reached over to gingerly sweep the hair away until his young, aesthetic face was revealed to his eyes. He was almost surprised that Sephiroth hadn't immediately awakened at the movement and slight touch to his visage. It wasn't a secret to him that most enhanced Soldiers were very light sleepers and tended to react violently once awakened by an intruder.

Sighing quietly, Vincent tore his eyes away from the younger man to stare up at the ceiling once more. He was suddenly aware of just how sticky and grimy his body felt. Prompted by that realization, the Turk attempted to move in an effort to get out of the bed when something solid stopped him.

As if sensing Vincent's intentions, Sephiroth rolled over so that he was lying half on top of Vincent's body. His head was nestled in the Turk's chest while one arm and leg were slung over the gunman's body in a lax display of possession.

It was…it was indescribable. Even if the raven-haired gunman could find the right words to describe it, he wouldn't utter a single word in fear that it would break the spell. He had hidden himself away for many years in a coffin; living in this delusion, if it were one, would not hurt him anymore than he already was.

Slowly winding his right arm around the slumbering man, Vincent felt his chest constrict as he gazed down at Sephiroth. What he felt at that moment was something he had never had before in his life. It felt so good, so _right_, but at the same time it imbibed his being with bittersweet pain since part of him felt loving Lucrecia's son was _wrong_. The pain he felt now was beyond anything he had ever known before in his life and it had all started with the younger man. It was a pain and a pleasure so sweet and divine that it barely registered as something similar to what he had once felt for this man's mother. Yet he couldn't help feeling that something about it was vastly different from the one-sided love that he had had for Lucrecia. It was one thing to love someone who would never reciprocate your feelings, but to love someone who returned your feelings…was something else entirely.

With all of those thoughts plaguing his mind, he then closed his eyes in an effort to sort through all of these confusing feelings and emotions. It would probably take some time, but it would be awhile before he could even begin to sort through them.

As if knowing Vincent was over thinking things again, the slumbering man sighed deeply as he shifted slightly in his sleep. This action caused the Turk to snap his eyes open to look down at the sleeping Soldier.

As Vincent gazed down at the silver-haired being, he was suddenly struck by the thought of how intimate this moment really was. Somehow sleeping with Sephiroth in his arms was far more intimate than the actual sexual acts.

He was also abruptly aware that they were both lying in _Sephiroth's _black bed.

The Turk was mystified by this realization. How had he ended up in Sephiroth's bed when he had been previously sleeping in the guest room? Had the young man crept into his room during the night to bring him to his own bedroom? Somehow that was unlikely since Vincent felt that he surely would have woken up. Unless…unless he had been drugged by the young General or perhaps had a spell cast upon him by said man. Would Sephiroth really do such a thing? The truth was, he didn't really know for certain.

It was with these thoughts that Vincent heard the low chuckling of the demon Chaos inside of his head.

Vincent felt himself go numb in the body at the implications of the demon's amusement. Did that mean…

_Deny, deny, deny. Hide, hide, hide. That is all you ever do, Host. It amuses me to no end that you dare call yourself a man…_

'What…did you do?' Growled Vincent inside of his own mind. It irritated him to no end that when he welcomed Chaos' input, the demon would remain silent, yet when he didn't wish to hear him, Chaos would offer his two cents. For him, it felt like he had his own separate conscience that spoke whenever it wanted to speak and sometimes presented him with good advice. On the down side, it was very hard for him to ignore certain things and to deny anything when something literally forced him to acknowledge the very thing he was avoiding.

_I did nothing, Host. Perhaps you should ask yourself what it was that _you_ did. You know as well as I that I have no control over you or this weak shell of a body. I have some sway, mayhap, but no true power unless you allow it. Do not ever forget that I am a prisoner trapped against my own will in your pitiful flesh._

'I do not understand this. I was so…rough and violent with Sephiroth. That is not like me. I am not that way, demon. I find it hard to believe that you had no hand in this at all…'

_Heh heh heh. I never said I didn't have a hand in it, host. I told you that I cannot control you or even force you to do anything against your will. I can…_tempt_ your will power, but nothing more. Everything that you did mere hours ago is what you wanted to do, what you desired to do to him. I just happen to share some of your desires, host. _

'I am not that way, I am not like _that_. I had no intention of harming him. This makes no sense…'

_Your denial is getting rather tiresome. If I could escape your pitiful flesh and inhabit my own true body, then I would. I would take him with me and leave you behind to wallow in your vile wretchedness, host. Alas, I cannot. I am stuck here with you so I might as well soothe your pathetic and unnecessary guilt. You did not hurt him, fool. He is fine and he will walk just fine come the morning. Heh, well, that's not entirely true. He might have a limp, but he'll still be able to walk. You still don't get it, do you?_

If Vincent could shoot Chaos in the face, then he probably would have done it a long time ago. 'What am I not comprehending?'

_He is the General of the strongest human army on this planet, host. He is the best of the best and not many can rival him. Although his power came from unnatural means, it is still his power. If he did not want you to dominate him, to be rough and brutal with him, then he would not allow it. He may let you smack him around in the bedroom or whatever kink he's into, but remember, if he doesn't like it, he may punch you through a wall. He holds your leash, or should I say, _our_ leash, and we have succumbed to him like lambs to the slaughter. Deny it all you want, host, but he is just as much ours as we are his._

Vincent said nothing more to Chaos as he stared up at the ceiling. He didn't care to admit it, but he found that there was some disturbing truth to the demon's words.

* * *

The General, clad in his usual black leather ensemble, strode purposefully into the Shinra labs. His pale face was devoid of any and all emotion as he briskly walked through long corridors until he had reached the medical portion of the lab. It was mostly used for his regular physical check-ups and for his weekly mako injections.

Sephiroth's regal nose twitched once or twice in displeasure as the sharp and unpleasant smell of disinfectant invaded his sensitive nostrils. It was a foul, unwelcome odor he had grown accustomed to since early childhood. Every time he smelled anything remotely similar to it, horrid, disturbing images of the past would flicker through his brain and he would then feel the distinct urge to flee. He never understood _why_ he had had such a compulsion to run away nor had he understood where the confusing, nightmarish images came from.

Until now. Now he knew what had been done to him and he was far from happy to be here once again.

It was not even the smell of disinfectant that bothered Sephiroth most: it was the bright, harsh whiteness of the laboratories that irked him. Everything was bleached and lifeless except for glass, metallic objects, and the like. In spite of the brightness, the laboratories had a certain gritty darkness that seemed to blot out even that of the fluorescent lights that flickered occasionally.

Seating himself on the check-up table in the examination room, Sephiroth waited with rigid posture for the doctor to arrive for his physical examination. He looked calm and neutral on the outside; however, on the inside he was an anxious wreck that shook with impatience and a small amount of irrational fear.

The dark-haired Turk walked stiffly throughout the labs as his distrusting crimson eyes darted around suspiciously. He knew this place almost as well as Sephiroth did and probably despised it just as much. He wasn't even aware that he was grinding his teeth and sporadically clenching his fists as he walked down the long corridor.

As tense and agitated as the Turk presently was, he had been doing well enough until he had entered the examination room. Halting suddenly in mid-stride, Vincent stared with wide eyes when he spotted it. Something akin to the feeling of a sharp blade stabbed and twisted in his gut as soon as he recognized the exact spot that he had confronted Hojo. It was also the same place he had been shot by the conniving scientist. In a way, this was where he had died, where he had sinned, and where he had lost _everything_.

"Are you all right?" Calmly inquired the mature voice of an adult woman. Yet it was not her voice that broke him out of his spell; it was the gentle touch on his shoulder that caused him to turn his head to look down at her.

"…what?" Asked Vincent as he blinked slowly in disorientation. Something about this woman was vaguely familiar, yet he could not fathom why.

"I asked if you were all right? You walked into the room and…well, you zoned out. You almost looked as if you were having a psychotic break. Trust me, I know. I've seen it happen before," explained the woman as she removed her hand from his shoulder. She seemed genuinely concerned as she watched him from behind her red-rimmed glasses.

The Turk nodded once before he focused his attention on the woman to scrutinize her. She was tall, maybe around 5'10", dark-skinned, and had an average body clothed in a white lab coat. Professional, yet stylish prescription glasses framed her dark, intelligent eyes. Her short, black, and styled hair complimented her slightly round face as much as the orchid black lipstick did her plump lips. The woman was probably in her forties, yet she seemed like one of those rare women that aged gracefully with time. Everything about the middle-aged woman spoke of professionalism _and_ class.

Vincent felt eyes branding into him hotly, which caused him to glance around until he had finally noticed the General. Sephiroth was sitting on the examination table and staring intently at him. One of his elegant silver eyebrows was arched up slightly in silent inquiry. The younger man didn't say anything, but it was apparent to the Turk by Sephiroth's body language that he was _concerned_ about Vincent.

"Right," muttered the doctor to herself before she strode back over to the General. As if this were something she did daily with this particular patient, she began the tedious, yet necessary routine of checking his vitals after he had removed his coat, armor, and gloves.

She touched the young General with such a familiarity that even had Vincent feeling slightly jealous. It faintly reminded him of how he felt whenever he had caught a glimpse of Lucrecia touching Hojo or vice versa. That had been different than this, but it had been jealously nevertheless.

Somehow, as clinical as this was, this woman doctor touching Sephiroth still bothered him. It also didn't help that there was mistrust brewing steadily in the Turk. The woman seemed nice and genuine enough, but as far as he knew, this doctor could have been one of the several doctors that had played an integral part in forcing Sephiroth to endure all of those inhumane treatments and experiments.

After the doctor had drawn some blood and had finished the routine examination, she looked Sephiroth square in the eye and revealed, "I have a bit of good news for you, Sephiroth. You are much healthier and more physically fit now than you were since the last checkup. You have also gained about five pounds, which tells me you're steadily gaining back all the weight you lost. That's good and it shows that your diet and exercise is working." The doctor then glanced at the vial of blood before switching her eyes back to the General. "I'm going to go run some tests on your blood now. I'll be back in ooh," she said as she paused to glance at her watch. "In about roughly a half hour. The tests take about two hours, but thanks to Shinra's expensive machines, I'm only needed for the first thirty minutes. So just sit tight and if you need anything, just page me."

Sephiroth nodded curtly, but said nothing as he watched her turn and briskly leave the room. As soon as she had closed the door behind her, Sephiroth turned his wicked gaze to the Turk. "So…"

Vincent blinked. "…"

Sephiroth smirked and then leaned forward, his hair tumbling down over his shoulders to trail over his bare chest. In a low, slightly husky voice, the General then lewdly suggested, "You want to…_you know_…?"

"Sephiroth, I am not doing anything of that nature with you in _here_," rebutted the Turk with a firm shake of his head. In spite of being taken aback by the other man's outrageous idea, he couldn't help but feel a certain stirring of heat in his groin.

"Suit yourself," responded Sephiroth nonchalantly as he leaned back on the table until he was casually leaning back on his elbows. With unfocused eyes, he stared blankly at nothing in particular. It was painfully clear that these habits had been formed years ago under the careful watch of Hojo. Sephiroth's discipline and patience had not come from Soldier training and from being out in the field; it had come from all of his time spent waiting in the laboratories and being subjected to inhumane treatments.

* * *

Several long minutes passed until the Turk could no longer bear the maddening silence. Mustering up the courage to ask his next question, Vincent inhaled and exhaled deeply before inquiring quietly, "Sephiroth, did that woman ever—"

"—No," interjected the General in a cold, stoic tone as he fixed his exotic eyes on the slightly shorter male. He then pushed himself up and leaned forward so that he could whisper, "_Be careful what you say in here, Valentine. There are bugs _everywhere_ in these laboratories_."

Vincent's eyes widened by a fraction of an inch even though a part of him was not surprised. Sephiroth's statement definitely explained how Hojo seemed to always be one or two steps ahead of everyone else. If the place was indeed bugged, then _who_ was watching and listening? Could the greasy, foul man still have spies around Shinra? In these labs? Or maybe…just maybe Hojo was still watching from somewhere else. No doubt it was somewhere safe and secure enough for him to continue to observe his _specimens _without risk of detection.

Mildly amused by all of the questions that seemed to flicker subtly all over the Turk's face and body language, Sephiroth then chose Vincent's moment of distraction to slide gracefully down from the table. Gingerly picking up a pad of paper, the half-naked General hastily tore off a piece of paper before he quickly jotted a few things down on the paper. Folding the paper in half, he then extended it towards the Turk in silent invitation.

The crimson-eyed Turk swiftly snapped out of his distracted state as soon as he had seen a flurry of movement. Staring for a moment at the arm offering him a piece of paper, Vincent slowly retrieved the paper and unfolded it as if it might contain a bomb. His wine-colored eyes drifted down to read the hurried, yet legible scrawl:

_We are being watched. Hojo may be gone, but that does not mean he is not monitoring us. He may have spies here working for him, or some other means we are not aware of, but I do not think that Dr. Zubira is one of them. We should still play it safe, regardless of what I think. I do not trust anyone here except for Angeal, Genesis, and you._

Vincent nodded curtly in understanding as he slipped the paper into one of his pockets. He said nothing more as he patiently waited with Sephiroth for the doctor to return.

* * *

"Your blood work looks fairly normal, Sephiroth. There are no abnormalities and it appears that your body is nearly recovered," began the doctor as she glanced occasionally at the clipboard gripped tightly in her right hand. Something about her body language told the General that there was more to it than that. He could definitely tell that there was something else that she was neglecting to tell him.

"_Anything_ else?" Sephiroth asked dryly while he fixed the woman with his own trademark unflinching stare. Because his gaze was often intimating and unforgiving, most people found it difficult to lie to him.

Dr. Zubira sighed as she removed her glasses from her face. She then rubbed the bridge of her nose before putting her eyewear back in its proper place. Focusing her dark gaze back on the General once more, she then reluctantly elaborated, "While you are healthy and nearly in peak condition, your body is producing excess amounts of hormones."

"_Hormones_?" Repeated the young General in a deadpan tone of voice that betrayed his skepticism. From what he knew about hormones, they were normal and essential to many organisms. He also knew that moderation was important for survival and anything in excess was never a good thing.

"Yes, hormones. Particularly the hormone _estrogen_. I hesitated to mention it because…ah, I do not fully understand it, yet," answered the doctor with puzzlement written all over her weary face.

With an impatient gesture of his ungloved hand, the edgy General bid the woman to continue. "Explain to me what you do understand."

"You are producing hormones that are typical to pregnant women, Sephiroth. Since you are clearly physically a man, I do not know how that is even possible," elucidated Dr. Zubira as she slowly set the clipboard down on the counter. She appeared to be deep in thought as she said next, "I will have to run more tests on you to determine the cause of these hormones. A few scans such as an MRI, CT, and ultrasound should suffice."

"Ultrasound? I am not a woman, Doctor. I do not see how that is necessary," objected a very displeased General.

The doctor sighed again. "I know that, Sephiroth. Ultrasounds are not exclusively used only for pregnant women. We use ultrasound technology to look for other things; things that shouldn't be there, but are. We need to make sure that there's nothing abnormal or harmful inside of you. I cannot force you to agree to any of these tests, but I can highly recommend that you consent to them."

Sephiroth fought the urge to join her in sighing as he inwardly nursed his own wounded pride. He then waved his hand in a gesture that meant he had reluctantly granted her permission. "Fine, fine. Do whatever you need to do as long as it is absolutely necessary."

"Thank you, General. I think it is also necessary to prolong your mako injections as well. For the time being, of course," said the relieved doctor. She had been afraid that he would have fought her on the issue to the point that she would have had to bring the matter to Shinra's attention. Doctor Zubira disliked the President, especially when he was concerned about the welfare of one of his '_assets'_.

"Yes, yes, yes," grumbled the brooding General before he glanced at the Turk. He became instantly curious the moment he noticed that Vincent had immediately looked away when their eyes had met. It seemed almost as if the gunman had been caught red-handed. But why? What was the man hiding from him?

Sephiroth intended to find out one way or another.

* * *

As soon as Sephiroth's front door had slammed shut, the General had rounded on the Turk faster than the blink of the eye. Slamming Vincent hard against the wall, Sephiroth wedged him against the wall while one of the swordman's hands had an iron grip on the other man's crimson collar. His slitted pupils were dilated from the anger rushing through his veins as his heart furiously pounded to accommodate his sudden surge of intense emotion. The General was beyond infuriated at this point due to everyone and everything that had led him all up to this point in time. It also didn't help that the damned Turk was guarding secrets from him like a wary dog. He believed that these secrets that Vincent hoarded were truths that _should_ be known to Sephiroth, too.

Vincent stared calmly at the angry General, whose twisted face was mere inches away from his own. He was already well equipped for the situation since he had often dealt with angry _and_ homicidal men time and time again. The dark-haired man wisely kept quiet for the time being; however, that didn't mean that he wasn't prepared to defend himself against the seething man.

"**What** are you not telling me? **What** are you keeping from me?" Snarled Sephiroth with his lips pulled back to reveal his gleaming white teeth as he leaned in closer with his regal nose nearly touching Vincent's. The hand that was latched onto the Turk's collar seemed dangerously close to ripping the cloth apart as if it were cheap paper.

The crimson-eyed Turk didn't seem the least bit fazed by the other man's toxic demeanor and hostile body language. In his usual low, calm, and monotonous voice, he drawled patiently, "You already know, Sephiroth. I told you once before that I cannot tell you what you wish to know. This is something you must remember on your own. I am sorry, but that is just how it is."

Panting from the sheer exertion of his trembling anger, the General said nothing as he glared venomously at the tranquil Turk. Something about the Turk's passive behavior was slowly chipping away at his shell until with a few deep breaths, the anger started to dissipate. His grip on Vincent's collar lessened somewhat as his body eased up enough to give the Turk an inch of space.

"I am on your side, Sephiroth. Do not fight me on this. If you can let anything go, let this go. For now," murmured the Turk so quietly that it seemed almost like a gentle whisper. As soon as he had spoken the words, an impulse struck him strongly enough for him to act on it. _Something_ was telling him to touch Sephiroth. Acting on the impulse, Vincent slowly reached up to touch the younger man's smooth left cheekbone. Expecting to be hit, or at the very least, to have Sephiroth jerk his face away, the Turk was mildly surprised when the General leaned into his touch in a nearly catlike manner.

Sephiroth sighed, "Sometimes I forget that you are not the enemy."

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A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Motivation and real life issues, you know. But I finally updated and I'm relieved. And yeah, a word or two of feedback is always greatly appreciated. To all that have reviewed, thank you, you rock!


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